


Angel of Death

by theycallmehans



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angels of Death, Death, Detectives, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gentle Kissing, Good Loki (Marvel), Investigations, Loki (Marvel) Does What He Wants, Loki (Marvel) Feels, Loki (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Love, Mutant Powers, Mutant Reader, Not Really Character Death, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert, Romance, Slow Burn, Soft Loki (Marvel), Sweet Loki (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:40:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 46,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24933160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theycallmehans/pseuds/theycallmehans
Summary: You grew up thinking everything about you was normal, but found that this wasn’t the case. One night, you discover that the normal life you had lived up until then was something of the past because every man you kissed since you turned 16 met a mysterious fate - death. While the world pegs you as a cold-blooded bachelor killer called the “Angel of Death,” you catch the eye of a raven-haired man in an equally black suit.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Original Female Character(s), Loki (Marvel)/Reader, Loki/you
Comments: 69
Kudos: 205





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, hello! I came up with this idea really randomly, and I suddenly had an urge to write about Loki... and this happened. 
> 
> It's going to be a very short multi-chapter read - maybe 2 or 3 chapters. I'd put it all on one chapter but it didn't seem right to cram it all in one go. So, here I am with my tiny short story. I hope you guys like it!

“Last night, another gentleman was found dead in his apartment. Local authorities cannot confirm the cause of death; however, it is believed that this may be connected to a string of mysterious deaths within this very city . Stacy, what do you have to say about your take on this potential serial killer in our midst?” The news anchor spoke loudly, his voice bouncing off of the walls of the small apartment. The television screen panned to a young woman in a lavender blouse, her small hands wrapped around the microphone with her company’s logo displayed on it. She was standing outside of an apartment complex that was bustling with men in dark blue jackets with the letters “FBI” sprawled on the back.

Seemingly unfazed, she spoke, “Sources say that the man was alone at the time of his death, but something tells me that he may have been on a date with our city’s Angel, Frank. There’s no trace of anyone in his apartment and locals are beginning to think he was ‘kissed by Death’s fate’ as they’ve been putting it.”

The news anchor now began to share the screen with the young woman, a joking look on his face even with the current circumstances, “Well, gentlemen out there, watch your backs. We’ve got an Angel of Death loose in our city. Who knows who’ll be next.”

Static filled the screen as the channel changed. You weren’t meant to be watching these kinds of things, not when you already had your suspicions on who the culprit was. Every fear that was within you overflowed, creating an abyss of darkness at your feet. The deceased - the man who was kissed by fate - he was kissed by _you_.

***

Two years had passed you by since the night all the dots had all connected, forming a big arrow pointed in your direction. It had been two years since you vowed to be alone forever because, no matter what you did, that’s exactly what would happen. If you so much as touched a man with your lips, he dropped dead by the end of the season. You didn’t test this theory, but after you had witnessed a man who had only received a kiss to the cheek being wheeled into the hospital, you didn’t dare try anything else.

An “Angel of Death” they called you. You were described as an angel of misery and destruction, seducing souls with promises of love in order to drag their spirits from their bodies until they were but empty capsules never to move again. It was harsh. The way they described you was harsh, but after you had watched multiple men meet their end, you didn’t see the point in arguing with the description that seemed to be more real than anything else you had tried to come up with.

You were Death in a human’s body. Human. Could you even call yourself that?

The guilt hidden behind every kiss you had administered to others was packed away, pushed into suitcases of repressed emotions that you had readily placed by your door. There was no use in crying over something you hadn’t even thought to be possible until the news proved you wrong. You couldn’t turn yourself in for being a murderer when they would just lock you up and probably run tests on you in order to make some zombie bride war ally. So, you sat. You sat under maple trees, and you sat under stars. You sat and waited for your life to end, waiting for your own Angel of Death to come grab your hand.

***

It was an autumn day. The sky was clear, people were laughing, and your supposed reign of terror on the city was something of the past. Six years had passed since your first kiss of death, and now the news was far too intrigued by aliens invading the city than they were ever intrigued by you. You held a book in your hand as you sat on the park bench, fingers tapping away at the edges as you tried to focus on the words. There was something distracting you. No, not something - _someone_.

A man sat on the opposite side of you. His hand held an older looking piece of literature, and for the first time in years, you were curious. You were curious about why this man was wearing an all-black suit when the sun was shining so brightly, and you were curious as to what he was reading. Why were his eyebrows furrowed? Was he deep in thought or simply trying to concentrate on the book with all the noise around? 

Before you knew it, you were much more interested in analyzing the man than you were in reading your book. You watched as his raven-colored hair glistened in the sunlight, and you wondered if he needed a hat to cool down. His long fingers stroked each page tenderly as he went line by line, and when he was about to turn a page, he would lick the tip of his finger before doing so. The man’s legs were long, slender, and crossed neatly over one another while he sat. 

As you watched him intently, you came to an important conclusion: no matter how you looked at him, he was _beautiful_.

An eternity could have passed you by, and you would have passed peacefully with the amazing view in front of you. But it wasn’t complete without knowing the beauty his eyes might hold. You wanted to see what treasures he hid within them, what secrets you could discover, and right as you thought about it, he looked up.

Your eyes widened as they met his. A small smirk played on the corner of his lips, eyes glistening with an emotion you couldn’t quite make out. Unable to look away, the both of you sat in silence, gazing at the other intently. His eyes analyzed every inch of you, making you feel incredibly self conscious. It was as if he was looking into your soul.

Just like that, though, he was gone. The man stood to his feet, the book in his hand shutting with a subtle clap, and he began walking. His eyes didn’t follow yours nor did he bother looking back, and when he didn’t even smile your way, you hastily gathered your things to go in the opposite direction.

***

You gripped your book tightly in your hand, silently cursing as you walked towards your usually bench. It was a nice day outside, and you were more than happy about being able to finally sit down and enjoy some quiet time, especially with all the children in school at this time. The world wasn’t having it, though, and it apparently wanted you to suffer.

A man sat on your usual bench, arms crossed and facing forwards. The autumn leaves were falling all around him, and part of you begged for your legs to carry you back home. You got closer to the spot and realized that a somewhat familiar face was occupying your space, a familiar man dressed that was dressed in all black. 

His eyes met yours like they had days before but there was no reaction this time around. You approached slowly, walking at a pace that seemed more like you were walking down the aisle for a wedding than casually strolling towards an open seat. Your eyes wandered around to the other benches, hoping that there was another one open somewhere nearby. The action proved futile as you witnessed older couples sitting on them, nestling with one another under the golden glow of the morning sun.

There was only one option - sit with him.

You stood before him, almost as if you were a peasant standing before a king. His mere presence felt godlike while yours felt so miniscule. Your grip tightened around the book in your hand, palms sweating from the nerves of confronting this near stranger. His eyes bore into yours and you mentally noted that his eyes were impossibly gorgeous. You couldn’t be quite sure what color they were, but they looked like emeralds in the glare of the sun.

“May I sit here?” You asked politely, pointing to the seat besides him. He didn’t verbally respond, but instead, he gestured to the spot as if he were granting a servant a seat at his table. You felt slightly humiliated yet flustered from the interaction as you sat down. 

Silence filled the space between the two of you as soon as you sat down and began reading. There was something in the atmosphere that was saying that you should try to speak to him, but judging by the way he was glaring at every man that walked by the bench, you felt as though speaking to him wasn’t an option. You glanced over from the pages of your book, watching his fingers as they tapped away at his thighs.

“ _An opportunity,_ ” you thought. He wasn’t holding his book, so maybe he would be open to talking, but as you were about to open your mouth to speak, he beat you to it.

“What is it that you’re reading?” He questioned. For a moment you wondered if he was speaking to you. His voice was like velvet to your ears, and you noted that if his voice were a drink it’d be a smooth bourbon. It’d be masculine yet smooth to the taste, you were so sure of it.

“The Night Shift,” you responded as if it was a title he should have known. His eyebrows furrowed just as they had the other day, and you figured it may have been best to explain further. “It’s by Stephen King.”

“Stephen King.” He spoke, weighing the name of the author on his tongue. “And what is he the king of exactly?”

His question made you laugh, which only earned you a confused glance from the handsome stranger. Stifling your laughter, you raised a hand in apology for the outburst. He nodded in acknowledgment, waiting for you to finish your joyous moment, and for a split second you thought you saw him smile. It wasn’t until you calmed down that you saw that he was, indeed, smiling brilliantly in your direction.

“You smiled,” he spoke again, his eyes wandering to a woman with her child. For a moment, you saw something flash behind them. Sadness, maybe.

The statement made you flinch, the smile disappearing immediately from your face as you felt yourself cowering into the shell you had so readily made for yourself years ago. He turned back to face you, his eyes focusing on yours. Perhaps he wanted to get to know you as you wanted to get to know him, or perhaps he just didn’t have anywhere else to sit when he arrived, but something told you that this encounter may have been fate.

“Whenever you’re here, you seem content,” he continued, eyes still searching yours for an answer to a question he never asked. “But you seem weary all the same. I have never seen you smile.”

He had seen you before; he had just confirmed it. Strangely enough, it didn’t seem as though he had ill intent or obsessive tendencies that just might end with you in a ditch somewhere. No, the raven-haired man seemed sincere.

"It's a pleasant sight," he whispered almost as if you weren't meant to hear it.

You felt yourself smile again, but only a small smile. A sigh escaped your lips, your heart beginning to jump in your chest as you felt a single brick fall from the wall you had painstakingly built around yourself. He smiled, too. And if only for a brief moment, you were glad to have met him.

However, the happiness of encountering “Loki” as he had named himself exactly one week later was quick to deteriorate. Your interactions with the mysterious man continued for days and then weeks. The two of you met for weeks at your bench, bringing new books and stories to share from various parts of your life. The two of you talked for hours underneath the brilliance of the sun’s rays; you talked until the sun itself kissed the horizon, bidding it farewell for the night.

You loved talking to him, and from what you had gathered, he was named after the Norse God of Mischief. He definitely fit the title; in fact, if you weren’t sane for the most part you would have been suspicious that he really was the god who had attempted to take over this very city. You were certain that the _real_ Loki could not possibly be in the city, not with the government still looking for him.

Those thoughts were besides the point, though, especially after the night he was meant to take you out.

At the moment of your slight panic attack, you were flustered over the fact that Loki had requested that you join him for dinner in the evening. For that reason, the two of you did not meet that day even though the sun had shone brightly and there were clouds to admire. Your hands were clawing at your arms as you thought of the endless possibilities in which the night could end, and as much as you wanted to say that a kiss would be the perfect ending, you couldn't let that happen. Even though you repeated the thought that you absolutely did not want to kiss him, your mind rejected it completely simply because you definitely wanted to. Hell, if you didn't have the slight dilemma of causing imminent death after a kiss, you would have done so the moment he told you that he enjoyed your company more than the coworkers he was forced to get on with.

So, it was safe to say that while you had to admit that you were extremely fond of him, it was hard to imagine getting anywhere with a relationship without being able to place your lips on any part of his skin. When you thought thoroughly about it, you decided that you must stop meeting with him once the night was over. If this was a date, or any form of romantic scheme, you could not take part in it. You couldn’t watch another man meet a fate that you had innocently led him to. You _would not_ do that. Not to Loki.

A knock at your door cut through your thoughts like a dagger laced with poison. It was a knock that poisoned your life from that point on, leading you down the abyss you had thought you left behind when you vowed to commit to loneliness. You rushed to find your cell phone that you had just put down seconds before, but as per usual, it was nowhere to be found. The knock sounded again. Huffing, you went to open the door fully expecting to see Loki outside clad in black. The person behind the door was anything but the man you expected; instead, you were faced with a gentleman in a plain suit and a look that told you that he was not there on friendly terms.

“Miss Y/L/N?” He inquired, his chin lifting as he glanced over your shoulder and into the apartment behind you.

“Yes?” You responded, eyes wandering over his outfit, attempting to figure out the nature of his visit. Your attempts proved futile, but that didn’t matter. He was quick to state his business once you had confirmed your identity.

“My name is Detective Francesco, I’m going to need to ask you to come to the station for questions pertaining to a case that has recently opened back up in light of new evidence. Does the name Isaiah Walsh ring a bell to you,” the detective asked, his eyes accusing you of a crime you were only aware you had committed until after the damage was done. You froze in your spot, not sure how to react. Of course, if he hadn't stated his business, you may have thought that he was there to inform you of an accident or a death. This wasn't the case, and those thoughts did not appear in your mind. Why would they? You were a _murderer_. Nothing more and nothing less.

Isaiah Walsh - the man who was found dead in his apartment six years ago. A date gone wrong. You simply nodded, not bothering to answer the question in case it would make the detective even more suspicious of you. “Let me grab my things.”

“That won’t be necessary.” 

It was clear as the words left his mouth that it was more than just questioning. You were a suspect, not a witness, to the crime he was investigating. As the detective led you down to his car, you noticed a man with raven-colored hair approaching the building with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The flashing of the police car’s lights illuminated his lean figure as an officer opened the back of his vehicle to you. 

Loki’s eyes met yours as he scanned over the scene in front of him. The bouquet fell to the ground, the smirk on his lips vanishing, as he witnessed you sit in the back of the car while a small crowd began to gather at the sight of someone they barely knew getting an all too noticeable escort.

***

You were sitting at a metal table with one of the big mirrors you see on TV. A typical interrogation room from what you could conjure from all the crime show reruns you had indulged in. Your hands folded in your lap as the detective sifted through a file on the table. Part of you wondered why he was taking so long to ask you any questions, but another part of you hoped he never would. Pictures fell from the file as he stood from his seat and your heart dropped to your stomach. It was a pixelated shot of Isaiah with his arm around a young woman at a popular bar just down the road from his apartment. The faces were blurred from the low quality image, but you knew just by seeing the time on the corner along with the date that the woman was you six years ago.

"Look familiar?" Detective Francesco questioned, watching your expression for any significant clue.

You nodded your head, knowing that full cooperation was probably for the best, "I was on a date."

The detective narrowed his eyes, sighing before opening the file again. Within a few seconds, four more security camera shots joined the first on the table. Each one showed the face of a different man with you by their side.

"For months," he began speaking again, "I was wondering why these men were chosen as the Angel's victims, and I couldn't figure it out until one year ago when I realized that the only common factor was you. You were the last person to see any of these men alive: why? Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, do you even remember these men?"

His voice was seething with spite. Your stomach churned and shivers ran down your spine at the look of determination on his face. You glanced down at your wrists, wondering if this was to be the last time you'd see them without steel cuffs on. The detective sat back down, pulling picture after picture from a folder of names you would have rather forgotten; yet, here you were, wearing their deaths as a tattoo on your soul - an imprint of the horrible monster you had somehow turned out to be.

"What about these men?" Detective Francesco pointed out to more photos of gentlemen that you had met at one point in your life. "This one was your high school boyfriend if my sources are correct, and this one," his finger tapped on an all too familiar photo of a face that haunted your dreams, "your own father."

Tears burned at your eyes. Over the years you had accepted many things, but the death of your father was never one. After just one glance at the photo, you found yourself unsure if you had the strength to look the detective in the face anymore.

"I'd like to speak to my lawyer," you mumbled, knowing that this was an uphill fight that you may or may not win. In fact, part of you hoped that you didn't win just so that the demons that crawled into bed with you at night, whispering damning words in your ears and flooding your subconscious with nothing but nightmares, would finally allow you to sleep in peace.

The detective nodded, eyes blazing with a victory he had waited far too long for. There were no fingerprints, no poison, nothing. Just your presence and the men's deaths. Even without substantial evidence against you, this was a start.

"We'll be in touch. You're free to go, but ma'am?"

You met his wicked gaze as you stood from your seat, "Yes?"

"Don't leave the city."


	2. Monsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You tell Loki that you are a monster, and Loki tells you that he is one, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for such good feedback on the first chapter!! I really appreciated it, and it made me want to write this as quickly as possible.
> 
> I'm not sure if I like how this chapter turned out, so I'm probably going to edit this once I'm done writing the rest. Also I think I lied, this is definitely going to be longer than 3 chapters. The more I think about the story, the more I want to add to it, so who knows how many chapters there will be. 
> 
> I hope you like it x

Your feet felt impossibly heavy as you walked back to your apartment. The sun had just dipped over the horizon, painting the sky a magnificent orange, purple, and blue as it bid the day farewell. The streets were bustling at their usual speed, people weaving through one another like needles embroidering a ritualistic path in order to create something beautiful. These people, their lives were beautiful. You found yourself envious for the first time in a while, wishing that you could walk the streets as you used to. The unspoken wish to be free from whatever curse had befallen you was on the tip of your tongue.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to cease to exist but exist all the same.

There was a point in time when you had believed that curses were things of fairytales and that if they were to exist in the real world, it certainly wouldn't happen to you. For your entire life, you felt as though you had lived in a way that would've made even the gods proud. You did right by others, and in return, the world did right by you. Yet here you were, paying for a crime you didn't commit and running into the law when you had meant no harm. Things like that made you wonder if gods really existed.

As you neared the apartment complex, your heart began to hammer in your chest. You were struck with the sudden realization that you had missed the "date" that Loki had planned for the two of you that evening; although, maybe it was for the better. Now the handsome gentleman would be able to see that he was better off in another woman’s presence rather than yours, and you would no longer need to worry about your lips ever touching him. No matter how many times you ran that thought through your mind, the weight on your shoulders didn’t go away. It was as if the world not only bestowed a curse on you, but now they handed you a rare specimen of a suitor that was barely out of your reach. 

The world was cruel and the gods made fun of your every move.

You held your head up high, letting your mind wander to more pressing matters like how you were going to explain the lethal situation that all the men from that file had found themselves in. _Would you spend the rest of your life constantly looking over your shoulder? Will they condemn you for your crimes? Or worse, would they take you away to live as a lab rat for the rest of your life?_

From the corner of your eye, you saw your reflection on the glass window of a local shop. You stopped to stare at it, wondering if your reflection felt as bad as the both of you looked. The makeup you had put on had worn off from the countless times you had rubbed your hands over your face in distress since leaving the station. Glancing at the reflection of your hands, you pulled them up, analyzing your palms and then flipping them over to analyze the backs of them as well. 

_Were these the hands of the monster you had become?_

Shaking your head, you turned back to the sidewalk. These thoughts were something you had thought many times over the past few years, and you had done what you could to keep them at bay. You had finally reached your building when you stopped in your tracks.

Sitting on the stairs, a bouquet of flowers at his feet, was Loki. His elbows rested on his thighs as he stared off into the distance. You were shocked to say the least. Not only had he witnessed you get into a police car, but he had sat down and waited for your return. The thought of him watching the sun set all on his own made you feel a tad guilty. He was a man that seemed to deserve more than a potential future convict as a date, and he definitely deserved more than a date that ditches him for an interrogation room.

His eyes met yours, a piercing gaze that you had matched many times before. Loki picked the flowers up from the stairs, standing to greet you. A sheepish grin appeared on your face at the sight of him. This was in no way romantic. In fact, a man that sits and waits for a date to come back from the _police station_ is most likely insane, but who were you to care?

Loki held out the bouquet, his jaw clenching as he waited for you to take it. Your heart felt heavy at the unhappy expression on his face and you couldn’t help but let your eyes drift down to your feet in embarrassment. 

“How long have you been sitting here?” You asked, eyes still trained on your shoes.

“Long enough,” he spoke, his voice still so confident despite his date for the night being driven away by law enforcement seconds before he arrived to pick her up. You felt his eyes following your every movement as you began to walk towards the entrance of the complex. It felt intimidating how he was looking at you; it reminded you of when you had first encountered him. His presence itself was intimidating, but when his eyes met yours, you always felt so small, so incomparable.

Loki followed your lead, walking only a couple steps behind as you began the ascent to your home. He was quiet and so were you, but this silence was different than usual. Sure, the two of you didn’t always talk when you met. Sometimes you just sat in the presence of one another, enjoying the feeling of not being alone in the universe - a soft, peaceful silence. This silence, however, was sharp like the finest blade forged by the heavens. It was filled with the strength of every secret hidden between the two of you, strong enough to bring down giants and break through mountains. It was an invisible blade, threatening you to break down the walls you had built or else it would do the job for you.

It wasn’t until the door shut behind Loki that he spoke again, “Care to explain?”

His tone wasn’t as intimidating as it was before. Perhaps he read your body language and understood that you weren’t in a good state of mind after such an encounter, or perhaps he had just gotten over his anger and realized that you didn’t willingly ditch him. Either way, you were happy that he didn’t seem too angered by your sudden disappearance.

“It’s a long story,” you responded, walking over to your sofa to sit down. Once again, Loki followed.

“I have quite a lot of time.”

At his statement, you looked up. His green eyes pierced through yours, trying to decipher the thoughts running through them. Loki sat down next to you, turned slightly to face your distraught self, as he cleared his throat, “The woman I was meant to accompany this evening seemed to have had some unexpected business to take care of.”

You smiled at his words, knowing that the man before you was only trying to make you smile. He was quite good at it; in fact, you had smiled more in his presence than you had smiled in the past 6 years, and for that, you were both thankful and terrified. Loki’s presence terrified you. At the beginning of the night, you had told yourself that this would be the last time you met with him. Now, as you tried to tell yourself the same thing, it was met with downright rejection. 

Loki had willingly stayed, waiting for you to return to receive an explanation. So, he was quite possibly insane, but part of you wondered if his kind of insanity would mix well with your own. Since you were a woman that killed others with whatever venomous talent you possessed, maybe insanity was what you needed in your life. But when has insanity ever been the cure for anything?

Sighing, you shook your head, “I don’t think you want to hear it, Loki. It’s not exactly a good first impression.”

“So, it’s a secret?” A grin replaced the more concerned look he had only a minute or so before. The grin was gorgeous. Of course, _everything_ about this man was gorgeous, and for a split second you thought: _If he really is insane, then insanity has never looked so good._

It was true. He was by no means an earthly kind of attractive. His long black hair, sharp jawline, and lean figure along with the English accent made him seem otherworldly.

“A secret better left unsaid,” you responded, nodding.

“Oh, but what’s the fun in that?” Loki taunted. His tone seemed more playful, as if the barrier you had placed between the two of you was more of a fun obstacle course than a warning sign that said ‘No Trespassing.’ Part of you wanted to urge him to break down the walls while the more logical side told you not to trust a man that had fun poking at secrets. You were always the type to ignore logic, though.

As Loki continued to grin childishly, you turned to face him completely. You gazed into his emerald colored eyes, hoping to find security and a place in which you could safely put your trust. There was no such place in Loki’s eyes; there was something much better. You couldn’t quite put it into words or coherent thought what you saw in his eyes when they met yours this time. It was as if light and dark had met and formed a fine line in which the two of you could walk upon, a grey area where all right and wrong needn’t exist. If there was a paradise for those who had fallen so far from the grace of god and man alike, Loki knew where it was. His eyes held the promise of acceptance, a promise he, too, seemed to yearn for.

When you looked away, there was no further decision making needed. If he was meant to turn his head the other way when you fully opened your heart to him, then that was what you would have to accept. But just like the day when he first sat next to you, there was something in him that made Loki seem sad, vulnerable, and even relatable. Although he looked as if he had just walked down from a pedestal made of jade and gold, he also seemed as though he had walked through hell and back. 

If there was one individual to grace this planet that would not run away, it would be him.

“Can I trust you?” You asked him, testing the waters.

Loki paused, seemingly contemplating your words. His eyebrows furrowed and his grin vanished, and you wondered if he was already thinking about backing out. Now, if you had been able to read minds, you’d know that it was quite the opposite. Inside Loki, a terrible war raged on. 

_Trust._ A small yet powerful word that could start or end the most destructive of battles. _Could you trust him? Was there anyone in all the nine realms that was truly trustworthy?_

His jaw was clenched as he stared at you, and you wondered what was going through his mind. The silence between you continued for what felt like a century before he spoke up.

“Yes,” he finally answered, nothing more and nothing less. Nodding, you sat up straighter, attempting to get a hold of your nerves. This was it - the moment of truth. 

So, you began, “I’m not sure how to explain, but I’m not normal.”

Loki didn’t react. He just sat there, his eyes trained on your hands that were attempting to break free from the skin covering them. The silence only urged you on.

“I didn’t know I wasn’t considered normal until I was about 21,” you continued. “It started when I was 16 and people around me started dying. I didn’t understand why, but it was a pretty big topic back then. My high school boyfriend passed away from a car accident, but we found out later he had died before impact, which was why he had crashed in the first place.”

“The next year, when I was 17, my dad passed away. The doctor said it was probably his heart, but-” The words were caught in your throat. If you said it now, you would have to fully admit that you had killed your own father. However, even you knew that there was no going back anymore. By now, you had already revealed that the deaths most likely had something to do with you, and that alone was enough to incriminate you if Loki chose to hand you over to the police. 

The feeling of a cold hand enveloping your own caused you to flinch. From the corner of your eye, you watched Loki’s eyes widen at your surprise pulling his hand back almost immediately. “It was me.”

“What was?” He asked, eyes trained on the palms of his hands.

“My father, his death, it was my fault.” You admitted, the feelings of guilt rushing through you like an unforgiving wind. Loki’s eyes snapped up to look at you, his expression serious now as he spoke, “It was not your fault.”

“No,” you countered, “It was. My father, my ex boyfriend, the men I saw throughout college, it was all me. It wasn’t until I watched the news one day that I even realized that the city saw their deaths as a string of murders. It all clicked. The deaths, the unanswered phone calls, and the rumors that people needed to stay away from me - it all made sense. I wasn't just a bad omen, I was _killing_ people. By the time I was 21, I had killed 11 men and I was being called the city’s Angel of Death - a cold-hearted murderer.”

“Did you kill those men?” Loki asked, his voice unwavering. It was almost as if death did not phase him in the slightest, and for a brief second you were thankful that he was not scared of you or what you had said.

“Did you not hear me?” You retorted, standing from your spot on the sofa. “They call me the Angel of Death.”

Loki stood as well, his expression hardening at your words. He loomed over you, his presence once again becoming much more intimidating than you would have liked. “I heard you, but perhaps you aren’t listening. I’m asking a rather important question.”

He took a step closer before speaking once more. “Did you, Y/N, kill those men?”

Your eyes began to water, tears of pain and guilt flooding your body and soul. There was no turning back; this was you, revealed. This was vulnerability. This was trust.

“No,” you said, tears beginning to fall. “I didn’t mean to.”

The tears kept falling as Loki took the final step to close the distance between you two. His arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on the top of your head as he calmed you with the gesture. Normally, this type of action made you feel suffocated; however, coming from him, it was like a warm blanket of security had just tightened its grasp on you. The words Loki whispered next set fire to your rabid thoughts, “I believe you.”

You pulled away in that instant, eyes turning cold, “Believe me?”

“Yes, I believe that you did not mean to kill those men.”

“But I killed them. Intentionally or not, their blood is on my hands and the police will come for me,” you cried, realization dawning on you. This was no time to be comforted by the hands of a ner stranger. In this moment, you were a key suspect in a string of crimes that would lead to your family disowning you, your friends hating you, and every good deed you had done to be erased from the face of this earth. You were dangerously close to being another killer on the long list of individuals to curse at the night sky about.

“You said it yourself - you did not kill those men.” Loki reassured, his determination matching yours. His hands were at his sides, clenching and unclenching with every other word he said.

“I did,” you whispered as a reply. The unspoken horror had never been repeated so many times in one night, and you had never heard yourself say the words aloud until now. Every life you ended, every death you had caused hammered down on you, weighing on you like rain water in a cloud. You were darkening, threatening to burst with a downpour of storms until you flooded all that your shadow touched. Your thoughts began to consume you, eyes going dark as Loki stood before your stiff body. His words floated in your mind: _I believe you_. 

“I’m a monster,” you stated as if it were fact.

“You are not,” Loki countered your remark, fighting back. “I have seen many monsters, and you are not one of them.”

“You’ve seen monsters?” You asked, eyebrows raising in a mocking way. Part of you was genuinely curious while the other part of you wanted to scream at him for trusting you even in the slightest. “I just told you that the blood of 11 men is on my hands, and you, you say I’m not a monster?”

Loki didn’t respond at first. He stood quietly, eyes staring off into the distance, and for a moment you thought that you had won the argument. That is, until he spoke again, “If you were to know the things I have done, you would think much kinder of yourself.”

Curiosity. What a peculiar trait curiosity is. The trait of being curious seemed to break through even the toughest armors and most foolproof disguises. It was a fluid trait that demanded its rightful place as being the most dominant feeling an individual could possess. So, despite the current situation and the weight of the world resting on your shoulders, a small childlike piece of you wanted to know what the raven-haired man meant. _What horrors had he seen? What had he done?_

“What does that mean?” You questioned, watching for his reaction.

Loki continued to stare off as if there were demons wandering your halls and he had the duty of looking for them. Little did you know that the demons were not so far off that they had to be sought after. No, the demons were right there in the eyes of the man you had somehow grown attached to in the past few weeks. 

“It simply means that you are not the only person in this room that has done the unspeakable,” he responded, voice strained as if he had struggled tremendously to even say the words. You froze, unable to process what he meant by what he had said. If Loki was also a murderer, that means he would have done so with the full intention of killing someone. Unless he was like you, cursed by fate to send those you love to an early grave. 

Somehow, you wished it was the latter.

“And what does _that_ mean?” You repeated, growing more wary of the fact that you didn’t know much about this man at all. Long talks in a public park is quite different than allowing a man into your home, and this was beginning to seem like a bad idea. 

“You are not a monster no more than I am an innocent.”

“So, you’re saying that you’ve killed people.”

Those emerald eyes met yours once again, fear radiating from his gaze as he realized that he, too, can no longer take back what he has said. The confidence and intimidating aura that once covered his entirety now seemed something of the past. The walls were coming down, and both of you had exposed yourselves, more vulnerable than either of you were comfortable being.

“I am saying that I have done things I am not proud of, but I am working on fixing that,” Loki said.

“What did you do?” You questioned, finding it only fair that he share his secrets since you had shared yours. However, if you had been in your right mind, you would know that the world does not work that way. One secret does not equal another being told. Some secrets are too big, revealing much more than one hidden detail. This you would have seen in the mixed expression on Loki’s face as you had asked.

He seemed to take in a large breath before speaking, “I have done many things, but I believe you will be familiar with the memory of a god trying to take over your city.”

Neither of you spoke for a moment as the words floated through the air with no destination. 

“I’m an idiot,” you said, breaking the silence. The words Loki had spoken were rattling around in your mind like dice during an astounding game of yahtzee. “Loki.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, waiting for you to continue to speak.

“You’re the _god_ . You’re not just named after the Norse God of Mischief; you _are_ him. You attacked this city, you-” You stopped speaking as you came to a full understanding of what he had meant when he said he had done things he was not proud of. People had died; so many lives were lost because of him. Looking up, you met his cautious gaze, eyes filled with worry as he stood in front of you with his metaphorical armor laid at his feet. All the cards had been played, and there was no turning back for either of you.

“Do you still believe you are the only monster here?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments are never expected but totally appreciated x


	3. Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki wants nothing more than for you to free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! It's been a week (I think?) since I last updated, but trust me I was mostly brainstorming away. It's like every time I tried to focus on this chapter, my brain went "OH HEY BUT HOW ABOUT THIS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER" and so it took a bit longer than expected. This is partially unedited, but I hope you enjoy it all the same x

_ Monsters. What is a monster?  _ You wondered, eyes trained on the vulnerable man before you. Was a monster an eight legged beast with fangs dripping with venomous fury? Was a monster the shadow lurking beneath the children’s beds, waiting for the moment they can steal them away? Was a monster the murderous fiend that you had been accused of being? Was a monster Loki? Or was a monster just a normal person, hiding in plain sight, ready to attack at any given moment?

If all of these were considered definitions of monsters in some form, then doesn’t that mean no one was safe? Does that not mean that every living being is considered a monster? 

For the first time that night, you felt a weight come off your shoulders like a demon who had lost interest in its prey. Suddenly, you were not alone. This moment, this vulnerability, this exchange was a taste of freedom that the both of you had longed for.

“No,” you whispered. “You are not a monster, Loki.”

His eyes that were once filled with worry now contained galaxies of unending gratitude. The words the god had longed to hear had finally come forward. He stepped forward, his eyes boring into your own. “And you are no more a monster than I, Y/N.”

You shook your head, refusing to believe him, but Loki only continued.

“If I, a tainted god that has been burdened with his past, can be forgiven by a mortal who resides in a city I nearly destroyed when I am not worthy of such forgiveness, then why must you be a monster? You have done nothing but mourn over events that are not your fault. Do you not think that you have punished yourself more adequately than any other mortal could have?” The backs of Loki’s fingers brushed against the skin of your cheek, and your eyes fell shut at the calming touch.

“Have you not punished yourself enough, little one?” Just like before, his words made you feel small. Not small as in inadequate. No, Loki’s words made you feel like you were cared for despite all you had done - a lost child with no path besides the one fate had made for her. As the words faded, you felt yourself growing inexplicably tired at the soft touch of the God of Mischief. Within seconds your world went black.

***

_ The music played as the double doors began to open. The light was incredibly bright, emphasizing the shadows of at least a hundred individuals. As you came into their view, the shadows stood up, wide glistening smiles on their indistinct faces. It was terrifying almost. It was almost as if you were about to walk into a room filled with dozens of cheshire cats that had been waiting patiently for your highly anticipated arrival. Footsteps resonated around you, coming closer with every passing second, and before you knew it there was a man standing by your side. _

_ “Shall we?” He asked, his wide smile the only visible feature on him. _

_ Even without knowing who the man was, you followed his movements. He offered you his arm, and as you grasped it, a familiar warmth overwhelmed you. It took a minute to process why it felt so warm, so familiar. You and the strange man walked into the room, looking at all the smiles around you all the while. _

_ It was so strange. The music was strange, the people were strange, and when you looked down to see an ivory white ball gown adorning your body, you realized that you were also very strange. Before you knew it, you were standing in front of an altar, the man beside you now holding your hands tightly. When you looked up to gaze at his face, it was a face that haunted your memories and dreams. _

_ “Dad?” You whispered, your eyes already brimming with tears. His eyes were cold as he looked at you. The grip around your hands tightened as he frowned at you, mouth opening as he began to speak. _

_ “You plan on marrying him?” He seethed, eyes glancing at an unknown presence behind you. “Are you going to seal the future with a kiss and kill him in the process?” _

_ The tears began to fall freely as he spoke. You shook your head, a sob escaping your lips, “Dad, I’m so sorry.” _

_ “No, Y/N, I’m sorry,” your father glared. “I made you into a monster.” _

_ Your father turned away, walking to an empty spot among the many faceless shadows. His features slowly faded into black, and you found yourself attempting to remember every small detail of him. Watching him fade was almost like watching him die a second time. Part of you yearned for him to stay even if that meant he hated you until the end of time.  _

_ A hand rested gently on your shoulder. You turned quickly, eyeing the suspicious stranger. Is this who you were meant to marry? Is this the man cursed to be with a monster? When he fully came into view, you were confused. The man was still only a black shadow, but you could see him slowly fading into something more. It was as if everything came into focus from the bottom to the top. _

_ The mysterious man’s body was covered in black leather with gold accents, an emerald green cape flowing freely down his back . It was attire that you had never seen before, and you were quite certain no one in their right mind would wear such clothing on this planet. His figure was lean yet intimidatingly strong, and you could feel your heart race as if you had loved this man all your life. As his face began to reveal itself, a loud hum began to emit from the ground. The hum only grew louder as the two of you stood at the altar, and pretty soon, the mysterious man turned to you completely, his face still too dark to truly recognize. His lips moved, and his grip tightened, but you couldn’t hear him at all. The deep hum within the earth began to vibrate your surroundings, threatening to break apart the terrifying paradise around you. You shut your eyes tightly as you felt the man’s hands tighten around yours. The hum only grew worse with every second, almost as if you were about to become deaf from it. _

_ Suddenly, it stopped. You opened your eyes to see darkness. The darkness was as black as the shadows that once surrounded you. In fact, darkness didn’t seem to fully describe it. No, this was more of an endless void. It felt like nothing. There was no warmth, no chill, no presence discernible in it. If you were honest, it felt like the absence of everything - light, sound, feeling, and life. _

_ Your hands were still in someone, or something’s, grasp. You looked up, frantically searching for the source of the pressure holding your hands in place. It was right then that you saw the glowing sea green eyes of a man you had come to know. The void overwhelmed you and him until all you could see was the man in front of you among the infinite darkness. _

_ “Loki?” You asked, watching as his eyes widened in fear. He took a step back, his hands flying up to grab hold of his neck. There was no sound, but you could see him gasping for air. His skin began to turn blue, ridges and veins clearly visible on his hands and his face. He took one glance into your eyes before collapsing to the ground, his once vibrant eyes dimming. _

_ “You killed him,” a voice whispered. _

_ “You murdered him,” another yelled. _

_ “You ended his life,” a third voice called from the darkness. The area around you illuminated with wide cheshire-like smiles. Each word they said felt like weights crashing down on you, pulling you down into the fiery depths of hell.  _

_ “I trusted you,” a chorus of voices spoke from all around you. When you looked around, twelve sets of eyes surrounded you. Twelve men. Twelve victims. Twelve dead.  _

_ Twelve murders. _

_ *** _

You shot up in bed, forehead glistening with sweat as you analyzed your surroundings. It was outrageously dark - too dark.  _ Were you not just in your living room moments ago?  _ For a brief moment, you believed you were still in your dream. Perhaps the voices, the men you had harmed, had come back for you. Perhaps they would end you like you ended them. Fumbling for your phone on your nightstand, you glanced at the time.

_ 03:33. _

Sighing, you sat up. As much as you wanted to believe that the timing was far too convenient to be coincidental, you let yourself brush the thought aside. The last thing you needed was to feel spooked during witching hour. You began counting in your head while staring off into the corner of your room.

Minutes passed as you steadily realized that sleep would continue to evade you. You swung your legs off the side of your bed before stepping onto the cold floor below you. The world swayed as you felt blood rush to your head and you found yourself stumbling a bit to counter the gravity that had befallen you. You walked the few steps it took to get to your bedroom door before slipping out. As you walked to your kitchen, your senses began to heighten. Every sound outside as well as inside made you jolt in caution as if you were waiting for a vengeful predator to make its presence known.

The walk to your kitchen had never seemed so long before, yet here you were, walking infinitely slow just to get to a room down the hall. When you finally reached your destination, you decided to pull a mug out of a cupboard. If you could just make a nice cup of tea, maybe sleep would welcome you back with open arms. 

You hauled yourself on top of the counter, swinging your legs like an innocent child as you waited for the hot water to finish boiling. Every couple seconds, your feet would tap on the cabinets below, causing a startling  _ bang.  _ The water had just begun to boil when you heard someone clear their throat. Turning immediately, you met the curious gaze of Loki.

“What  _ are  _ you doing?” The god asked, an eyebrow raising.

You jumped down from your position, eyeing him suspiciously, “I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing here?”

Loki stood still, eyebrows furrowing as if he either had no idea why he was there or he had no idea why you would ask such an absurd question. Without looking at what you were doing, you reached for the pot holding your now steaming water. A sharp pain jolted through your hand as you glanced down to see that you had grabbed the hottest part of the metal. You cursed under your breath, holding your burnt fingertips to your mouth before turning to run some cold water on the affected area.

The God of Mischief was quick to come to your aid. His hand encapsulating yours while he held your hand up to see the damage. “You asked me to stay, do you not recall?”

Confused, you pulled your hand away.  _ Had you really asked him? _ Seconds passed as you tried to remember asking him to stay the night, but nothing came to mind. If you weren’t shuffling through your memories in order to find the moment such a thing occurred, you would have noticed the soft green glow that surrounded your entwined hands. You would have noticed the soft kiss Loki left on your fingertips after the glow subsided, and you most certainly would have noticed the lack of pain pulsing through your hand.

When you finally finished trying to remember, Loki’s face was very close to yours.  _ Too close _ . You could feel his cool breath on your cheeks as he seemed to slowly inch closer until his lips were less than a centimeter from your own. Your eyes widened in shock as your hands flew up to cover your mouth. 

“What are you doing?” You asked, stumbling backwards until your back was against the counter. Loki made no movements towards you; instead, he shook his head and turned off the running water. For a moment, you could have sworn you saw a pained look on his face at the sudden rejection.

“Nothing,” he responded, still facing the faucet.

“I don’t remember asking you to stay tonight, Loki,” you said. Every second you thought more about it, the more you realized that you couldn’t even remember getting to bed. You were still wearing your dress from earlier, and you weren’t the type to fall asleep in your day clothes - ever. “I don’t even remember going to bed.”

You heard the god sigh with his back still turned to you. He turned slowly, meeting your cautious gaze, “I put a spell on you.”

“A spell,” you stated. It was by no means a question, not now when you knew he was capable of such magic. “What spell?”

“I simply put you into a deep sleep. For days you mentioned that you were not able to sleep well, and now that I know why, I decided to do what needed to be done,” he spoke, arms crossing against his chest. It was at that moment that you realized that he was still wearing his suit. No wonder you hadn’t seen him when you walked into the room - the god was dressed in complete black. He was practically dressed as the darkness itself.

“So,” you started, an eyebrow raising in scrutiny, “You put me to sleep without even asking, when we were talking?”

“Yes,” Loki answered.

“Don’t do that.”

“And why not?” The God of Mischief took a step forward. “If I were to have let you continue on the conversation, leaving shortly after, would you have slept?”

You stood silently, knowing very well that you would have tossed and turned throughout the night like you had for the past six years.

“I saw a window of opportunity, and I took it.” He continued, the silence answering his previous question. “Better for you to fall asleep in my company than in the company of your personal demons. If you were standing in my position, you would have noticed how undeniably exhausted you were. How was I meant to let you push me out the door when I can clearly see how much you needed rest without interruption, without fear of being dragged into your past?”

You hesitated. Glancing at the sincere look in his eyes, you sighed in defeat. 

“Just,” you started to say, waving a hand in the air, “Don’t do that without asking first next time, okay?”

Loki nodded, “As you wish.”

You kept your distance as Loki poured the hot water into the mug that you had placed on the counter. He grasped a tea packet from a jar next to your stove before handing you the warm cup. As you took the mug from him, you smiled. Loki, God of Mischief, had just helped you make some tea. If that wasn’t the most absurd thing to have ever happened in your kitchen, then you weren’t quite sure what was. 

“Would you like some?” You asked, holding the cup slightly higher to indicate that you were speaking about tea.

He shook his head, “I’m not overly fond of tea in the middle of the night.”

The two of you stood in awkward silence before you motioned to the couch in the adjoining room. Loki nodded, following behind as you made your way over to sit down.

“Is it normal for you to wake in the early hours like this?” He inquired as you sipped on your tea. 

“Unfortunately, yes,” you responded, placing the mug on the table. “I don’t sleep peacefully anymore.”

Loki nodded in understanding. He, too, was plagued by nightmares. He dreamt vividly of the events that he had taken part in, and with every passing second spent asleep, he was only ever reminded of his repulsive status among those around him. However, as the god watched your shaky hands reach for your mug again, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. There was something about you that made him protective, and he could not be certain as to what that was, but he knew that you were a being to be watched over.

Loki knew the pain of being riddled with demons, and he knew how hard it was to sleep with the voices telling you that there would be no greater monster than yourself. He understood the torment and the endless waking hours. He could recall all the nights in which the cold sweat dripped down his neck as he woke from the unspeakable just to find that the nightmare never ended. Loki knew far too well, and although he recognized these troubles as something he would give away in a heartbeat, he found himself wanting to take away your pain and make it his own.

In his mind, he could not fully understand why you, of all people, were plagued with such abilities. You were kind. You were forgiving. You were everything the god considered himself not to be, and that in itself was the reason he could not understand. Loki could understand and relate to everything you were going through, but he could not fully comprehend why it was you that met this fate. He did not want to see you suffer or for you to be afraid that someone would come around to drag you away. No, Loki would not allow those thoughts to plague you. He  _ needed  _ to protect you.

And for the first time in a long while, Loki found himself wanting to save someone. He wanted to save you from yourself even if it meant that it could be his downfall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for read!!
> 
> Kudos and feedback would be so so appreciated x


	4. Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki tells you to be careful, but you aren't sure what to be careful of. Meanwhile, word spreads of the inevitable fate your past flames met.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be infinitely longer than what it is, but I didn't want to drown you guys in like 20 pages of words so here we are with Chapter 4 :) 
> 
> I'm really enjoying writing this story, and I hope you guys are enjoying it too x

For hours, Loki sat with you under the dazzling moonlight. You admired the way his skin seemed to glow as he sat by the window. At one point, you had moved to the small seat to sit beside him, and you listened as he read a book aloud in foreign tongues. Where he got the book, you would never know, but you couldn’t find a reason to care. The way the language rolled off his tongue with ease calmed your raging mind, allowing for peace to be pleasantly bestowed upon you.

Before you knew it, the sun was rising in the east, prompting you to arise and ready yourself for the day to come. For the first time in quite some time, you found yourself not fully dreading the day. Perhaps the presence of a god was more beneficial than you had imagined; however, part of you still understood to some degree that Loki had done unspeakable things, things more grave than you could possibly imagine. He had offered no explanation for his past actions, and you weren’t sure if that was a good or bad sign. As you made your way down the stairs of your complex, bidding farewell to the God of Mischief, you were certain of one thing: Loki was a troubled individual, but he was kind to you.

“I can accompany you,” Loki offered as you basically shooed him off. You shook your head, smiling at the thought of an escort, but knowing that it would only draw unnecessary attention was enough for you to turn him down. “Do be careful, then.”

You weren’t expecting him to give up so easily, but perhaps he had recognized the fact that he had already stepped too close to the line in which he shouldn’t cross. Loki walked in the opposite direction, a green glow exuding from his body as his black clothing turned into a forest green top with black slacks. For a moment you were surprised that his outfit had changed on such an effortless whim, but then you were reminded that he was a god of many talents - the first and foremost being trickery. Shaking your head at his obvious use of magic, you turned on your heel to go on your way.

The sun kissed the horizon, golden rays of sunlight streaming into the city streets. It allowed a pale, ghostly glow to resonate off the buildings, producing warmth that melted the hearts of all it touched. Gentle smiles passed you by as your feet took you farther and farther from your home. The city was never one to sleep, nor was it one to stop and admire the sunlight. No, this city was filled with individuals who desperately needed the extra hours of work because if the city doesn’t sleep, they don’t either.

Your walk was more than pleasant, but the feeling that it wasn’t going to last was something you couldn’t shake. Every step felt like a brutal blow to a could-be perfect day. As you ascended the staircase to your workplace, you realized that every person you walked by had their eyes narrowed. The elevator was the same. At first, you thought that perhaps this was merely coincidence. Soon thereafter, you were assured that this wasn’t so.

Every person who would normally approach you with brazen smiles upon their faces seemed to wither away into corners, talking amongst other employees. Snickers and pointed fingers were directed at you from every seat in the room, and suddenly, you were very aware of Sarah, your closest colleague, and her gaze on you. When you attempted to meet her eyes, she turned away, pretending as if she wasn’t just looking at you. 

Minutes later, another coworker approached her. You strained your ears, attempting to hear the hushed conversation that had everyone around you on edge. “Hey, Sarah.”

“Yes?” She spoke curtly in response. 

These coworkers crowding around her were people that the two of you would typically frown upon. They were the instigators of all workplace drama, and to say the least, no one really liked them all that much - for good reasons, too. If your workplace was a high school, then the posse of gossip-loving individuals would quickly be the snarky bullies of the classroom.

“How’s it feel knowing you befriended a serial killer all these years?” One of them chimed in and you jolted in your seat. 

The sudden movement caused you to bump into the glass of water you had placed on your desk, spilling the contents onto the carpet below you. As you hastily put the mug upright on a farther corner, you stood from your seat, gaining even more unwanted attention than when you had walked in. You reached for some tissues on your desk before kneeling down to place the flimsy paper on the ground. As you did so, a familiar hand aided you, laying down more durable paper towels to help soak up the moisture.

Sarah’s eyes met yours for a brief moment, and although you knew she was wary of the rumors, she quite possibly still cared about you. She had left the posse of annoying gossipers to help you.  _ You _ , a person who was the center of rumors.  _ You _ , a murderer trying to live a normal life.

“Y/L/N,” a voice called out. “Boss wants you in the office.”

You mouthed a silent ‘Thank You’ to Sarah before standing from your spot. With hesitant steps, you made your way to the large office that you had been in countless times before. An almost nonexistent smirk was on your boss’s lips as he shut the door behind you, proving that he, too, was feeding into the gossip. He motioned for you to sit in the chair across from his desk while he walked the short distance from the door to his own seat.

“A coworker of yours saw you getting arrested last night,” he tutted, hands folding on his desk as he looked you in the eye. “Furthermore, the police came in asking questions about you on your day off. Care to inform me as to what this is about, Miss Y/L/N?”

Just by the glint in his eyes, you could tell that this man had no interest in knowing the truth. How could he? You were seen getting escorted by a detective, and the police had already made their investigation known that you were someone of interest pertaining to a case. There was no way to brush it off.

“There,” you stuttered, “There’s been a misunderstanding. I wasn’t arrested; there were no cuffs. I just went into the station to be asked how I knew some of the victims of an old case.”

“Misunderstanding or not,” he pointed out, “It doesn’t look good for us, and seeing as though the media is on a rise about the old serial killer case pre-alien invasion, you can understand why the office is having a bit of difficulty keeping their focus on anything but you,” he stated.

“I’m sorry,” you attempted to apologize, but it came out more like a question if anything else. An eyebrow raised on your boss’s face as he stared back at you.

He heaved a heavy sigh, fingers clenching at one another as if there was a habit he needed to forget. The wrinkles on his forehead creased, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he thought of what to say next. One hand reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose while the other rubbed against his thigh aggressively.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Y/N,” he started to say. It was never a good sign when people started sentences like that because there was no way to gloss over the truth. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay home until this blows over.”

“What?” You asked, sitting up straighter. “Why? I can still work.”

The words you said seemed to plead with the man, ‘ _ please, let me keep this routine. Please, my sanity cannot take it if you take this away from me.’  _ But the unspoken words went unheard, and he held his hand up to stop you from speaking any further. You had no say; this was decided before you even stepped foot through the door. His smirk had wasted away over the course of your short interaction and was replaced with a look of disdain.

“Some of the employees, especially the males, are worried about your presence in the office,” he answered calmly. “While I may not have an issue with you being here, I can’t have over half the office on edge while working. Their wellbeing is important.”

_ ‘And yours isn’t.’  _ His words were laced with the underlying meaning, weaving in and out of each word like a vengeful spirit out for your blood. Of course, you could understand the way they were thinking, and you were aware that you were far from innocent. However, that didn’t make you feel better at the fact that nothing had been publicly confirmed; yet here you were, getting kicked out of the office until further notice. _How would you pay your bills without an income? Were you just supposed to rot in the streets?_

“I hope you can understand,” he spoke again, voice like nails on a chalkboard. The words practically made your ears bleed. You nodded, not bothering to put up a fight to a decision that you had no say over. So, you stood up, dignity in tact, and walked out of his office.

The stares were harsh as you walked back to your desk to gather your things. Everyone’s eyes watched as you quickly pulled your jacket into your arms along with your bag and cellphone. You could hear the murmurs from around the office. They sounded like the pesky degrading voices from your nightmare the night before. All too quickly, you felt a familiar suffocating feeling growing within you. Your nightmares were practically coming true as each person who used to greet you happily now looked on with looks of contempt and disgust.

You stepped into the elevator as the doors fully opened, and when the doors were practically closed with only a sliver of the office to be seen, you heard the words, “Good riddance.”

You leaned back onto walls of the elevator, feeling the coolness of the metal seep through your clothing. Sighing, you tilted your head back and stared at the ceiling as the every so often beeping resonated off the walls of the small space. The you from just a couple hours before desperately wanted to laugh in your face at this very moment. It wanted to laugh and remind you that you were not meant to have happy moments - you were undeserving of such glorious things.

Peace was not a word fit for your vocabulary. Happiness, joy, peace, and all words pertaining to such heavenly emotions were no longer fitting for you or your way of life. Fear, anguish, desperation, and all words expressing such distraught and heavy emotion were much more suited for the likes of you. And as you emerged from the elevator onto the first floor, the welcoming eyes of a few late coworkers met yours, reminding you that the minute they arrived at work, their image of you would quickly deteriorate into something short of hatred.

You felt helpless as your feet touched the pavement outside of the building. Your friends were wary of you, your work was uninviting, and the police had your face in the database in big, _ italic _ , and **_bold_ ** lettering. Perhaps if you slipped away in the night, you’d be able to run away. But years ago, you had told yourself that running meant you were nothing but guilty.  _ If you hadn’t meant harm, you would not have to run, right? _

The inviting sunlight suddenly felt void of warmth. It was no longer something to smile upon or allow the ice around your heart to melt. It was nothing but cold, unfeeling light. 

The smiles you had passed this morning were something of the distant past, and every face you seemed to register expressed sorrow, disdain, and palpable distress. Perhaps the city, too, could feel your pain, and she was speaking your emotion into the street. It was as if New York City herself was roaming the streets, whispering stories of irrevocable tragedy into the ears of all she passed. She was desperate in herself to ensure that you did not suffer alone.

For a moment, you found solace in the fact that you were not the only person walking the streets with such a sour heart nestled within your chest. Then you were repulsed by your own satisfaction in the unhappiness of others. You breathed in, hoping to inhale sanity alone with the elements you needed to survive, but you were only met with the smell of cigarette smoke and vodka as you passed a local bar.

You walked for a while. You walked until your feet felt heavier than your heart, and you walked until your mind was so riddled with the idea of sitting down that you had almost forgotten you had any troubles at all. But then you sat down on a familiar bench in a familiar park, and your heart was heavy yet again.

The singing of the birds and the soft gentle breeze that rustled the trees was anything but calming. Songs of the birds reminded you of the music in your dream the night before. The sunlight streaming through the trees reminded you of the blinding lights that surrounded such a surreal nightmare, and the rustling of the trees sounded like muffled laughter of the demons that cluttered your thoughts. If you closed your eyes, it was only that much worse, but you couldn’t complain.

To be honest, you weren’t sure how long you sat there. It could have been seconds or hours for all you knew. The feeling of the sun had grown slightly cooler as you sat beneath it, and you couldn’t decide whether or not you welcomed the chill that overtook your body or if you resented it.

A soft fabric fluttered on your shoulders as you stared into the distance, wishing to be anywhere but where you were. At first, it felt only like any other gust of warm air encircling your body, but then you caught sit of a plaid cashmere fabric resting on your shoulders. It was warm and friendly; the feeling made you feel safe before you felt threatened. But then the question appeared:  _ Where had it come from?  _ You glanced around, eyeing your surroundings before feeling a presence beside you.

“Did I not say to be careful?” A familiar voice spoke, his tone playful.

You turned quickly, eyeing the god standing before you. He was still wearing the outfit you had seen him effortlessly change into as he had walked down your block, and now that you had a clear view of him, he was stunning. His hair was pulled back into a small bun and his hands were behind his back as he stood underneath the tree beside the bench. 

“I  _ was  _ careful,” you huffed, legs crossing as you stared back at the gorgeous god.

Loki chuckled - a pleasant sound that you needed to to hear. It was a soft sound of delight; despite everything you had heard about how merciless and cruel he was meant to be, there was a faint sense of innocence and kindness within him as well. You wanted to understand the conflict that took place within the God of Mischief, the feelings within him that played catch with his morals. You wanted to  _ know  _ him.

If a god, or a man, had shown such kindness and acceptance to you, then you wanted to be able to do the same for him regardless of all else. This didn’t have to mean that you turned a blind eye to wrongdoings or that you condoned any of the things he had done in the past, but you wanted to meet Loki halfway. You wanted to understand his mind and be able to say that he could be redeemed of whatever he seemed to believe he fell short of. He didn’t need to suffer, and he most definitely didn’t need to do so alone.

“Then why are you here right now instead of at work?” He inquired, a gentle and cautious smile adorning his nearly perfect features.

“I left early,” you responded. You weren’t lying, and part of you didn’t want to know if you could thoroughly lie to the God of Lies himself. 

“For what reasons?”

“Well,” you began to say, not knowing entirely what the answer would be either way. “My presence was considered… undesirable.”

Loki nodded, his eyebrows furrowing with a look of anger or concentration. You weren’t sure what his features held, what emotions he held towards the subject. The two of you stayed silent for a few moments as the sun began to dip below the tree line. Loki stood like a sculpture of dignified proportion, carved from the most divine shade of marble fathomable, and as you watched him for any sign of change, you found yourself admiring him more than anything else.

“Come,” he spoke suddenly, turning to you.

You didn’t protest as he motioned for you to follow him; in fact, it felt nice to be walking with a destination set by anyone but you. Loki’s steps were light, barely audible as he walked a couple steps ahead of you. His eyes were fixed on the lowering sun when your surroundings suddenly changed. 

The soft rustling of the trees and sounds of bustling individuals out for evening jogs were nowhere to be found. Instead, the silent chirping of birds and distant cars filled the silence as you took in your surroundings. You stopped walking, breathless as you realized that you had somehow managed to move quite a distance without barely moving at all. The grass beneath your feet rustled as the breeze shifted in your direction, and you almost asked the god as to how he had managed to get you here.

Loki approached you slowly, his eyebrows still furrowed as they were before you had arrived here. His pale hands reached for the shawl conveniently placed on your shoulders before taking it and laying it on the ground. He sat down smoothly, patting the space next to him to indicate that he wanted you to sit with him.

You sat quickly and clumsily, attempting to find a comfy position on the earth below. Your surroundings were familiar, and after a few moments of contemplation, you recognized it as Cedar Hill. 

“What are we doing here?” You asked.

Loki turned to you before looking up at the sky, “I am not fully accustomed to the ways of your kind,” he stated. “However, I believe every being in every realm has taken a chance to admire their morning star set.”

“You,” you began, a small smile on your lips. It astounded you how at ease the god could make you feel sometimes, “Took me to watch the sunset?”

“No, I simply brought you here so I did not have to look upon this sight alone.”

You laughed lightly at his words. Although he seemed to say that he was not doing this for you, it still felt like he was doing you a favor. Killing two birds with one stone you supposed. A blithe smile appeared on his face at the sound of even the slightest bit of cheer, and you were thankful yet again for his presence.

When you turned to face the setting sun, you realized one of two things. The first being that the two of you were the only ones on the hill, which was usually not so in such a popular area; the second thing you realized was how lovely the atmosphere was. This was not to say that it was the perfect setting to a kiss - because it  _ was -  _ but, instead, it was a light, playful atmosphere you had not felt for years. Over the past 6 years, you stayed away from relatively everyone besides your family because you couldn’t bear the idea of dragging anyone else into the mess you had made for yourself. 

You found yourself leaning back, using your hands to keep yourself inclined just enough to see the lavender and pink tint in the sky. The silence between the two of you was something you were quickly growing accustomed to, especially in such seemingly pristine moments like this. Just the presence of Loki besides you was enough for your heart to feel just a little bit lighter, and perhaps he had brought you here because your presence did the same for him. 

As your eyes danced to keep track of the infinite colorful sky, you felt a hand touch yours. Loki’s pale fingers rested delicately on your skin, a fire much resembling an arctic breeze setting fire on the place his hand touched. Your eyes fell shut as you wondered for a moment how his fingers would feel entwined with yours or perhaps how it would feel to have such long, nimble fingers caress your body beneath the stars. Part of you desperately wanted to know his body and how it might fit with yours, but the other part of you screamed to let the daydream go. 

Shaking away the thought, you opened your eyes to see that the god had been looking at you for who knows how long. He made no further movements besides touching your hand, and maybe that was for the best seeing as though you may not try to stop him despite all that has happened. Your cheeks flushed upon the realization that he had watched you immerse yourself, even if it was only briefly, into a small fantasy.

Loki did not make any remarks, nor did it seem like he had any idea of what was running through your mind. Instead, he looked back up to the sky, eyes shining with such splendor you wished to never look away.

“I have a confession,” he spoke suddenly, catching you off guard. 

“Yes?” You asked, wondering if he would tell you that he was  _ not  _ a god. Maybe he would tell you that this was a hallucination, or perhaps you were still stuck in your nightmare from the night before. However, as your mind raked through the abundance of possibilities forming within your mind, Loki said the one thing you weren’t sure you wanted to hear.

“When I met you, I knew who you were.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading :)
> 
> Kudos and/or any and all feedback is really appreciated x


	5. Unraveling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! I'm posting this a couple days earlier than originally planned because it's my birthday and I thought, "My gift to myself is going to be allowing my impatience to take hold." In short - I couldn't wait to share. I was WAY too excited.
> 
> Your responses on the last chapter literally sparked a fire in me. I woke up the next morning and read all of them and I was so delighted I couldn’t stop writing!
> 
> I’m so excited for the upcoming chapters. I’m not even kidding. Oooohhh boy, the things I have planned!

You blinked, unnerved by the sudden words that had escaped the lips of the raven-haired god. His expression remained blank as if the words were but a trick of the breeze, words whispered by the leaves on the trees. But you knew this wasn’t so. He had said that he _knew_ you, as if you had either met before or he had received an abundance of knowledge about your life. Loki’s eyes never left the sky as you pulled your hand away from his grasp, almost mortified by the fact that he had kept the secret that he already knew who you were.

“What do you mean?” Your words were shaky as you stared, wide-eyed at the man before you. _Perhaps all gods knew too much about you?_ Any logical explanation seemed to not make sense, and you figured that he would be open to giving an honest reply since he had already given away the biggest part of the secret.

His voice was calm, too calm, as he responded. “The people of this city requested help from,” he paused, weighing the words before speaking. “Someone I know. They said that they believed a bloodthirsty mutant to be loose in the streets of their home.”

You cowered into yourself, the weight of the words, “bloodthirsty mutant,” almost too much for your mind to bear. There were many things you would call yourself, but bloodthirsty was not one of them. If that was truly how the public viewed you, then maybe it was best to just let the police take you away and put you under lock and key for all eternity. Perhaps, then, you would finally find peace of mind. Before long, another question arose in the back of your mind.

“Who would be called for a mutant on the run?” You pondered aloud, eyes narrowing in confusion for a brief moment before it dawned on you. “The Avengers?”

Loki said nothing as if he hadn’t heard you speak. You pressed further, spurred on by the silence.

“Do you work with the Avengers, Loki?”

Loki seemed to wince at the words as his eyes fell shut. If you remembered correctly, the hero ensemble had taken him into custody shortly after the invasion that threatened the streets of the city. His eyes remained shut as he seemed to either be reliving the events or pushing the thought as far away as possible. “If you can call it that, then yes.”

He turned his head to peer at you. His eyes reflected the soft pastel colors that adorned the evening sky, offering a moment of silence that was not as daunting as the conversation should have made it seem. You were confused by his words, not knowing if he meant that he doesn’t work with them or if that meant that he didn’t enjoy doing so. The confusion was clear on your face for the god to see, and within a few seconds, he was explaining himself.

“I wouldn’t say I’m welcome, or well liked, in such a highly esteemed group of heroes.” He drew in a breath before continuing. “If I’m being honest, the only ones who do not seethe with hatred for me are my brother, Thor, and the Spiderchild.”

You fought the urge to laugh at his term for the young superhero that resembled an urban Tarzan, swinging to and fro, building to building, as if that was all he had done since he was born. “Spiderman,” you said, correcting Loki’s words.

“Is that not what I just said?” His tone was still calm but there was an edge of authority to it that made you want to sink into the ground, but the feeling was quickly shaken off when you realized that he didn’t seem angry with you. For a brief moment you wondered how someone who sounded so utterly calm and in control of his anger could be seen as an enemy to the world. But then again, you were an enemy to this city even though you had never used outright violence against those around you. So, with that thought, you figured that anything was possible.

You took a moment to fully process his words. The Avengers were called in to capture you, arrest you, imprison you, or whatever it was that they did with people of your kind. The mere thought of being tossed into some bottomless void or shot into outer space made you shiver. No one really knew what happened to those that the heroes subdued; all anyone knew was that one second the threat was there, and the next it was not.

“So, your team,” you choked on the words, stuttering to correct yourself. “The Avengers were called to help find me? One measly person, and they called them?”

Loki opened his mouth to speak before shutting it again. His brows furrowed as he seemed to be trying to find an answer to your question. The calm in his face seemed to gradually turn to something more, something tense. He sat up straight, the muscles in his jaw taut as the words began to form.

“I was not told any of the details; I wasn’t meant to be helping.” He stopped short, allowing for the words to sink in before he continued on with his response. “I had merely overheard the conversation before the door was so rudely slammed in my face.”

You nodded, letting him continue before you answered.

“Obviously, I found you far before they did. Even for a mortal, you were quite difficult for the scientists to even track down.” Loki’s voice carried a sense of approval and something close to admiration. His eyes met yours as a small, yet arrogant grin made it way onto his face.

Not knowing what to say, you pondered over his words. If what he said was true, then there was a group of exceedingly talented individuals actively searching for you. A shiver ran down your spine to think that maybe they had orders to shoot on sight, but then you figured that you were considered inactive for over half a decade. It would be unwise of them to open fire on a person who didn’t seem to have any fight in them anymore.

“I could have left the state,” you muttered, almost as if it were to yourself and only yourself. “The country even.”

“But, you didn’t.”

Once again, you found that you didn’t have any words to say right on the spot. It was like you felt as though you needed to think through each word carefully before speaking at all. For now, there was only one question on your mind.

“Why didn’t you turn me in?” You pressed. “You said yourself that you’re trying to make up for your past, clean your slate. You found me. Why didn’t you take the opportunity to prove yourself to them?”

Loki was quiet for a long time. The lamp posts were lit up by now as the sky dimmed and the darkness began to set in. The rich lavender and orange colors that filled the sky were replaced with midnight blue tones, cooling the air around you considerably. Chirping of nearby crickets and the soft rustling of the leaves filled the silence as you waited for him to say something - anything.

“Thor was quick to get angry when he learned of a mutant with powers that could so quickly kill a man.” You winced at his words, this time not being able to hide your distaste for such words to describe what you had done. When you met Loki’s eyes, they were soft, glowing in the dark. None of this was answering your question, but you allowed for it. “He wanted to hunt you down immediately, corner you, trap you.”

“And you didn’t?”

“Like I said, I was not even welcome in the room. My brother just happens to have a habit of speaking loud enough that all the realms can hear him. I overheard, and I was simply curious about you, so I sought you out on my own accord.” As he spoke, you wanted to reach out and touch his face. His eyebrows seemed to constantly be drawn together, his features always so distorted in concentration or some dark emotion you couldn’t quite place. You wanted to caress the lines, hoping that they would fade into a face that held contentment and peace for once.

“How did you find me?” You asked, knowing that the endless stream of questions was surely getting annoying for the mischievous god.

“I stumbled upon you,” you stared at him in disbelief as he said the words. Surely, he had tried to some degree, but upon seeing his face, you realized he was telling the truth. Or at least, he was telling a lie well enough that you couldn’t see the difference. After all, he was the god of such things. Loki continued, “To think that they were all trying to find you with computers. They had people searching both high and low, and all it took was a stroll in the park for me to come across you.”

His arrogant grin made a second appearance since the beginning of your conversation, and you had to admit, the sight was growing on you. You had seen small snippets of his personality when you met him on your shared bench, but he seemed to conceal it. Tonight, though, it was free reign, and you were thankful for the levels of honesty. Although, you would have preferred that he had told you these types of things sooner.

“I’m either very good at finding things I shouldn’t, or your realm is struggling greatly with their security measures.” His words were light, playful even. You thanked the stars for his ability to make you smile despite all that had been shared - the dark secrets, specifically. 

“How did you know I was the one?”

“I sensed magic from you, but it was too strong of magic for an ordinary mortal to handle.”

“So, you assumed,” you spoke. You tried to match his previous tone, but perhaps you failed. Loki glanced at you with a look in his eyes that was a mix of dissatisfaction and scrutiny. Attempting to show your intent, you smiled as a way of showing that you were only trying to poke fun and _not_ insult his senses. The God of Mischief seemed to catch on because the dissatisfaction was soon replaced with a playful look. However, it disappeared almost as quickly as it came.

“Am I cursed?” You asked, genuinely concerned about the subject.

“I said nothing of the sort,” Loki responded, glancing up at the night sky before sighing. “I can only sense the magic. I cannot tell you what it is or what it can be used for.”

Silence seemed to fill every empty space as the two of you stared up at the sky. The stars were now alight, shining like shimmering freckles on a darkened sky. Unlike the times before, the quiet that had settled was more tense. Your mind wandered, wondering if Loki was telling the truth. After all, he was the God of Lies, it would be so easy for him to deceive you if he were to try. 

If magic was the reason for your abilities, then surely you couldn’t be to blame for it all, right? A weight in your chest seemed to disagree with you as your mind attempted to shift the blame on whoever had granted you such magic. Your mind was reeling, playing catch with both your emotions and your thoughts. Minutes passed of the mental toil before you had had enough of it.

“You never said why you didn’t turn me in.” You stated.

Loki seemed to tense at the words. You wondered if it was a touchy subject, but then again he was the one that brought it up in the first place. So, you were justified in the various questions you had spewed over the course of the time the two of you had been sitting under the sky. Then, as usual, the god said the last thing you had imagined.

“When I first saw you, you seemed harmless - just a mediocre individual sitting on the bench opposite of me,” he responded, a small smirk playing on his lips. “I could sense your power from afar, and I left that day fully intending on telling my brother that I had come across a mortal with unknown power and that he should inform the others. However, I ended up keeping you as my secret. I watched you. You read for hours each day. You smiled at the elderly as they passed. The fourth time I saw you, you had given up your seat to a couple who seemed weary.”

You didn’t say anything, but you sat, wondering how he had witnessed such things. What he spoke of had happened over two months ago, but you had only ever seen him once, and he was simply not someone you would not notice. So how had he gone weeks without being noticed? The questions were endless, but you stayed silent, hoping that his explanation would give you an idea.

“In turn, I gave up my seat to you.” He stated and your eyes widened. You briefly recalled a young man giving you his seat after the occurrence. _That was Loki?_ “The next day, I wondered if you were kind to more than just the elderly. You did not disappoint. I appeared before you as children, women, the homeless, stray animals, and even noble looking men. Time and time again you were kind. So, finally, I wondered what you would do if you saw me for who I was. I wondered if there was kindness for the likes of me.

“That day, you were staring at me. I had felt it.” Your cheeks suddenly felt warm as you realized that he had known you were looking at him longer than you probably should have. “You said nothing, but you did not glower at me, nor did you turn your head away. You faced me, and there are not many who do so willingly.

“I returned the next day, wondering what would happen if I sat beside you, and you were still kind. You ask me why I did not turn you in, and I must say that I am not certain. Perhaps, I just enjoyed the company of someone who did not scrutinize my every move, someone who enjoyed my company as well.”

Your heart beat quickly in your chest at his words. The man beside you had watched you intently for much longer than you had realized, and while the sane part of you said that you should be terrified that he did that, another more laidback part of you said that he was the only reason you still breathed fresh air. If he had turned you in, then the police would not have even questioned you. You would not have been a suspect; instead, you would have been seen as the culprit. In some twisted way, Loki’s actions had saved you from being locked in a cage for the rest of your life. Even if it was only until you were caught by someone else.

Just as you were about to speak, the god stood to his feet. He held his hand out for you to take, and you stared at him for a long moment, wondering if he knew the impact he had made by not giving you up. You grabbed his hand, letting him pull you up gracefully as if you were nothing but a feather he had reached down to pluck from the ground. As you stood, waiting for him to say something, Loki reached down and picked the shawl off the ground, patting it out before folding it beneath his arm. 

Without a word, he turned and began walking. You followed closely behind him, not even attempting to break the silence that had formed. While walking, you stared at Loki’s back. You watched as the muscles contorted and flexed with every movement, and you wondered how it would feel to trace the outline of them. How would they feel beneath the touch of your hand? Subconsciously, you reached out to touch him; however, just as your hand ghosted over the fabric of his shirt, a soft rumble emitted from your stomach. Loki turned quickly right as you put your hand back down by your side. His eyebrows furrowed at you before he placed a hand over his own stomach.

“Would the lady accompany me to dinner this fine evening?” The playful tone in his voice was enough for you to gladly nod in response. “What shall we get?”

You glanced at your surroundings, attempting to figure out where you were in order to aid in the decision. “Take-out?” You finally asked, knowing that take out was everywhere in this city and a place to get some was guaranteed to be nearby. Glancing quickly at your phone to see whether or not you were right, you almost missed the humorous laugh that escaped Loki’s lips. He smiled at you as you raised your eyebrows in his direction.

“A prince of Asgard, the realm that served as protector to many others including this one, has asked you to accompany him to dinner, and you do not take advantage,” he spoke in disbelief, a laugh following his words. “I could probably provide you with the best food this city has to offer, and you ask for something as simple as cuisine stuffed in a box.”

You weren’t sure how to respond to him; so, you smiled in return, offering a meek, “Yes,” in reply.

“You fill my day with much wonder,” he stated, eyes ablaze with happiness that you wished would stay. 

Loki followed your lead as you took him to a small Chinese restaurant, ordering a few items over the phone on the way. There was no small talk or reasons to carry on the previous conversation. He had shared what you had pried for, and he had done so willingly. If you pressed any further, who knows what else would get revealed. 

After picking up the food, you offered your apartment to Loki as a place to eat. He agreed relatively quickly, seeing as though you were shivering at this point from the chill that blew through the towering buildings. The food was spread out across the counter as the two of you sat on adjacent chairs, fumbling with chopsticks and forks to fill your empty stomachs. You had never expected to be eating greasy Chinese food with a god, but then again, you never expected to even come across a god in the first place.

You allowed for the silence to stretch long after it probably should have, but you were enjoying the company whether or not he was speaking. But, after a while, something started to bother you. His previous comment about enjoying your company seemed to have made an impression, and you wondered if he truly believed no one enjoyed his presence in return. 

“Loki,” you said, trying to catch his attention from the box of noodles he was indulging in. “There must be someone who’s enjoyed your company in the past, right?”

His eyes seemed to darken at your words, his body tensing. You partially regretted disturbing him because you didn’t want to cause him grief or frustration. But your curiosity was ravenous; it would eat away at your mind if it couldn’t satiate its hunger with knowledge. Loki put down his food and swallowed before speaking, “Yes, perhaps.”

You sighed in response, not knowing why his answer bothered you so much. “You’ve never told me much about your life, so if that was a topic better left unspoken, then I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any harm.” You fumbled with your words. “Besides, I enjoy your company.”

“You do?”

“No, I spent every day with you for the better part of a month because I hated your guts.” The sarcasm flowed from your mouth easily enough. When you looked at the god beside you, his jaw was clenched as if he was taking you far too seriously. So, you spoke again, a softer tone taking hold, “There were easily a hundred other benches I could have sat at in this city, yet I sat with you each and every day. Don’t pretend like you weren’t aware of that.”

“You’re right,” Loki sighed in contentment. “My presence is rather alluring, isn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his words, and when you turned to cast a smile in his direction, you caught a familiar far-off look in his eyes. Sometimes you wondered if Loki’s demeanor was such a well built facade that people around him wouldn’t be able to tell the difference. He still held a look of arrogance from his previous comment, but his eyes told an entirely different story. If anyone else were to look into them, would they see the same? Would they see the vulnerable look in his eye and see the same thing you did?

“What do you think of when your mind wanders like that?” You asked, cutting the silence with your words. Loki appeared to be surprised by your question as if he didn’t expect you to be so observant of him. After a moment, you smiled apologetically, following the question with, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

He nodded slowly before leaning back in his chair, hands falling to his lap. You waited patiently for him to speak, not wanting to push him any further than you already had. The two of you had never been in each other’s presence for such an elongated time, part of you was afraid that his patience with you would only decrease with every passing second. But Loki was calm, and his breathing was even before he spoke.

“My mother,” he said softly, eyes staring off as if he was reliving a moment he would have much rather forgotten. You wanted to say that it was okay to not tell you, but at the same time you wanted to know. So, you sat silently in case he chose to continue. “She was the only one who did not seem to favor my brother over me. When I had gotten myself into trouble, she was always there to ensure that my father did not go too far in his punishments. She taught me magic, and she treated me as her own even when I did not deserve such blissful things such as kindness and happiness.”

“She sounds like a good mother,” you responded when the silence between his sentences had stretched too long.

“Oh, she was,” he whispered, a pained expression taking hold of his features. You processed the words before you suddenly realized the meaning. In an attempt to comfort his pain, you reached forward and grabbed his hand gently. Pulling his pale fingers along with yours, you held it in your lap. As you did so, you could feel his eyes on you, probably wondering what you were even doing.

“What happened to her?” You finally asked after a minute or two.

“She was murdered during an invasion,” his voice was low, a hint of anger behind his words as he seemed to recall the moment it occurred. You didn’t speak for a second; instead, you gently toyed with his hand, tracing the lines in his palm while enjoying the cold, yet welcoming, skin against your own.

“I’m sorry, Loki.”

Loki shook his head firmly, “There is nothing to be sorry for. I killed the one responsible as soon as the opportunity presented itself. I would have killed him sooner if it wasn’t for,” he paused. “My predicament at the time.”

“Predicament?” You asked again, mentally tugging on your hair for being so ridiculously curious. He couldn’t possibly be okay with how many questions you were asking him. You were probably tiring him.

“I was imprisoned at the time,” Loki seethed in response, his hand that you held clenching on reflex with his anger. You let out a small yelp at the sudden pain jolting through your hand as it got crushed in the grip of the god. The sound of your pain quickly caused him to lessen his grip on your hand exponentially. “I seem to not know my own strength at times,” he whispered, gently holding you in both his hands. For a moment, he caressed the skin. Then, he brought the skin of your palm to his lips, whispering words of apology before planting a gentle kiss to your palm. He didn’t let go as he turned your hand back over and kissed your knuckles as well.

You shook your head at him, smiling in appreciation for the gesture, “It’s alright.” _I provoked you, it’s not your fault. I asked for it,_ you added on in your mind. The pain was a firm reminder that Loki held so much strength in his seemingly ordinary, _well not ordinary - he certainly looked godly,_ body. If he wanted to, he could break you with a simple flick of his wrist.

Loki didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he gazed into your eyes, watching, waiting for something. You weren’t quite sure what he was waiting for. A warmth spread to your cheeks at the intensity of the stare, and you weren’t sure if his look was one of analytical origin or something else entirely. You attempted to escape his stare by turning your head to one side, rubbing your cheek against your shoulder in an effort to calm the growing heat radiating from its surface.

This clearly was not what Loki wanted, because one of his hands reached up to grasp your chin. Without so much as a warning, he leaned forward, placing a soft kiss to your lips. It was quick, like a child who was sharing their first kiss with a friend just to get it over with. Except there was no giggling, no joyous screams involved. Your hands flew up to your mouth, covering your lips as your eyes began to burn with impending tears from what had just happened. It dawned on you then and there that you had never informed Loki of _how_ the men around you had died. You never told him that this was the last thing he should have ever done.

“What have you done?” You asked, looking at the man before you as if he were about to disappear. Because, quite frankly, he could die at any second and there was nothing you could do about it. Loki dropped your hands immediately, eyes narrowing.

“Am I that a repulsive creature,” he began, his voice now dripping with venom. “Must you cry from the touch of my lips on yours? Or were you lying, and I am nothing but a monster to you?” He stood quickly from his spot, about to turn away to leave right as you reached up to grab his wrist. Your eyes were glistening with tears as they threatened to spill over and cascade down your cheeks. 

“No,” you choked out. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He stood still, eyes still narrowed as he scanned you up and down. You stared up at him, his body looming above you, threatening you. Your grip on his wrist tightened as the tears fell. Almost as quickly as before, his mood seemed to shift.

“You say that you don’t want to hurt me,” he murmurs. “How could you hurt me?”

The words settled poorly in your stomach; it reminded you too much of your dream the night before. You didn’t know how to respond. _How could you? How could you hurt him?_ The words were on repeat, and soon your mind was reeling, replaying your dream over and over. The vision of Loki dying right before your eyes causing all your being to freeze. You had gone 6 years without incident, and you were careful. _You shouldn’t have gotten close to him,_ you thought. _You shouldn’t have given him such hope._

“The kiss,” you whispered. Your grip on Loki’s wrist faltered as you began to shake with fear of what you had done. He took a step towards you, and you closed your eyes, not wanting to see the anger and hatred he probably held for you for allowing such a thing to happen. Apologies escaped your lips like an endless river. With your eyes closed, the vision of your dream was only more vivid. You feared that when you opened your eyes, Loki would be there, lifeless and his ghost would wander your mind, reminding you of the horrible thing you had done.

You were reminded of the words that tore you from your dream, “I trusted you,” and the tears fell even harder. Your hands covered your face as you began repeatedly muttering the same three words: “I’ve killed you.”

You heard Loki kneel before you as he pulled your hands down to your sides. He brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, pulling you down towards him. Your eyes shot open as he placed a feverish kiss to your lips, wanting, needing the affirmation that perhaps you wanted him as much as he seemed to want you. You attempted to push him away but his strength was overpowering and you couldn’t get him to budge from his position. After a few moments of his lips being slotted against yours, he pulled back, holding your hands to his chest as he rested his forehead against you.

“Tell me,” he began. “You didn’t want me to kiss you because you were afraid of hurting me?” He was breathless as he spoke as if the mere thought that you wanted to kiss him had knocked the wind from his lungs. “Is it wrong to believe you may have wanted to kiss me, too?”

You were dumbstruck. _Was not wanting to kill him not a good enough reason? He truly is insane,_ you thought. 

“This isn’t the time for that kind of question,” you rushed out, the tears pouring freely once again. _Panic,_ you wanted to scream. Loki stood to his feet, pulling you with him. “I just told you that I’ve basically killed you, and you’re worried about the fact that I want to kiss you.”

“So, you do?” Loki laughed as if nothing was wrong, as if he hadn't just been radiating immense amounts of fury, gripping your hands tighter and placed them over his heart once again. It was beating quickly beneath the warmth of your hand, and you tried to pull away in case the rapid beating was a sign that he was about to suffer from a heart attack. “I’m still alive, darling,” he spoke, his words meant to be comforting. They were anything but. “Forget your worries for a second and be happy with me. What’s done is done.”

You gasped at his words, pushing away from him, “How can you say that? You could die any second now.” You fumbled for your bag, attempting to find your phone amongst the various items you had stuffed inside. Before you could even think, you were calling the number to emergency services. They probably couldn’t help a dying god, but perhaps they could call the Avengers and they can cryogenically freeze him before anything happens. “Maybe there’s a cure. Maybe if we find someone in time to run some tests on me, then -”

Loki ripped the phone from your hands, mumbling words about a mistake to the operator that had picked up. “Then what?” He inquired, shoving your phone in his pocket.

“Then _maybe_ it can save you.”

“And if your efforts fail?” He asked, grabbing your shaking hand and placing it on his lips. He murmured against the skin, “Will you allow me to die with my hopes high and my lips cold from your neglect?”

You stared at him at loss for words. All of this from meeting Loki to the almost-date to the confessions and now the kiss. It was too much, and it was moving far too quickly for your liking. The god grabbed hold of your other hand and pulled you closer, offering a smile.

“If what you say is true about all the others who have kissed your lips, then there is no redemption for me. I would prefer my final moments not to be filled with such despair,” he spoke, and as you glanced up to meet his eyes, you could have sworn that they had deceived him. There was _fear, blatant fear,_ beneath those emerald irises. Loki must have noticed your perception because he closed his eyes briefly, and when he opened them, the fear was gone. “Now that I’ve kissed the lips of this supposed Angel, my fate is sealed. If that’s the case, then let it be. I shall accept that fate as long as you allow me to kiss your lips until my dying breath.”

You gaped at him and his words. Never in your wildest dreams, or nightmares, did you ever think someone would say something so romantically tragic to you. Loki’s words sounded almost like a love confession, but you knew it was far from that. Yes, you couldn’t deny the obvious attraction, and Loki enjoyed your company and more so seemed to enjoy you, but love was something entirely different. It took you a moment to wrap your mind around the Shakespeare-esque speech he had just spoken, wondering if he truly meant it.

There had been fear in his eyes; you saw it. There was no denying that this god was not yet ready to depart from this world, but he was here, comforting you as if _you_ were the one dying. How did you deserve this? And how did he deserve such a cruel fate? However, as you stood there, you were faced with the inevitable truth that he had blatantly mentioned.

There was no going back now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always!!!
> 
> Kudos and/or any feedback is appreciated more than you know x


	6. Apprehension

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The responses I've been getting to this story have been so unbelievably flattering it's left me a tad speechless. Thank you to everyone that's read so far. I'm overjoyed that you guys seem to be liking Angel of Death as much as I've liked writing it!
> 
> Also, with that being said! *Drum roll* The story has over 1000 hits and 100 kudos! I'm awestruck; if you could see me, my cheeks would be flushed. When I started writing this, I was almost too scared to post it, but seeing how much you guys seem to like it makes me so glad I decided to share.
> 
> I'm going to be super honest, though, I struggled a lot with this chapter and I wasn't sure why. It's like my creative juices took a vacation and said "nope," so I had to sit there spinning the wheels manually for days. I do hope this was alright, though!
> 
> So much love for you all x

The cold feeling radiating from Loki’s skin seeped through the fabric of your shirt as his fingers spread across the expanse of your back, seemingly trying to touch as much of you as possible. After his small speech, you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. So, when you had ducked away to turn from his grip, he had only pulled you ever so closer, holding you to his statuesque body. He said nothing as you let tears fall freely down your cheeks, darkening his shirt with every stain.

You had never expected this. No, you couldn’t even begin to dream of something like this. Sometimes, sure, your mind would wander and you’d find yourself daydreaming about the endless possibilities, but then you stopped yourself. There was never a good enough reason to do that - never a good enough reason to risk him.

But you  _ liked  _ him, that much was true. Once upon a time, liking someone wasn’t a death sentence. Given the circumstances, though, the feeling was one of dread. Instead of butterflies you felt like a cage filled with restless bats. They were swatting away at your innards, making way for the heavy burden of death you would inevitably carry once the god holding you drops to the ground as if he had never lived in the first place.

_ Was killing a god even worse than killing a mortal? Would you not only rot in prison, but would the gods of the highest order send someone to smite you? To ensure that your existence was cut short once and for all?  _ The thought was neither appealing nor appalling.

However, no matter how much you decided to fret over it, because of your own selfish desire to get to know him along with your inability to walk away from his advances, the god before you would meet an unfortunate end. It would be all your fault.  _ No one blames the dead.  _ Even if his lips were the ones that had touched yours,  _ you _ had let it happen.  _ You _ had allowed someone to get far too close, and  _ you _ had no way to reverse the damage.

You pulled away from Loki’s grasp, not wanting to spur on the actions he had just taken. If there was one thing you couldn’t afford to do it was kiss him again. So, you stepped back, inhaling deeply before standing up a little straighter. Perhaps if you feigned a calm attitude, then he would see your words as something more than just a frantic jumble of ideas that could or  _ could not  _ potentially work. He stood stoically, the fear in his eyes still hidden away beneath the apathetic wall he had put in front of it. You couldn’t ignore the fear you had seen in his eyes; it was clear as day, even if it only lasted a brief moment. 

Neither of you seemed to want to say anything at first. The tears were dried, and your posture was getting tiring to maintain. You had spent six years believing that an incident like this would never have to occur again; yet, here you were. Maybe you should have prepared yourself more thoroughly for the possibility that it would happen again. But then again, you were a firm believer in the idea that there was nothing in the universe that would soften the blow of knowing that you were the reason for someone’s death.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you mustered up the courage to speak, “If we hurry, we might still be able to do something -  _ anything. _ ”

Loki seemed to ponder over your words more thoroughly than he did previously, but his expression gave no indication of how he felt about it. Even after a few moments of contemplation, he shook his head. “There is no need.”

You narrowed your eyes, feeling like you were going to burst with something more like anger than sorrow at any given moment. 

“This is  _ not  _ just about you, Loki.” You gritted your teeth, feeling your anger brimming every corner of your being now. You typically didn’t have much of a temper, but this was not a typical situation. You were no longer “typical.”  _ This is too much,  _ you thought _. Far too many feelings and far too much pent up frustration.  _

“If I allow you to die, I am nothing short of a murderer. I’m fully aware of what will happen to you, and if I can do something to stop it, then by God, I will do it with or without your help.”

“You said yourself that it is no guarantee,” Loki spoke calmly, and it almost,  _ almost  _ made you want to slap him in the face for it. He shouldn’t be calm, and if that look in his eyes was anything of an indication of how he truly felt about all of this, then he should be screaming. He should be the one getting angry, screaming at you, calling you a monster. “I’d rather not waste time on something that may end up being a fruitless journey.”

_ A waste? How is fighting for his life considered a waste?  _ For a second, you wondered if one of the immediate side effects of your so-called power, or  _ curse,  _ was delirium. Loki certainly seemed downright insane for not even blinking at the thought of living. The god always seemed to be on the verge of insanity though; after all, he was known for being vexatious and prankish. 

“So,” you breathed, attempting to calm yourself. “So you’re just going to accept your fate without kicking and screaming?”

“I’m not quite sure what would come from kicking and screaming, it’s not as if the Norns will care for a god throwing a tantrum.”

“That’s not - I mean, you won’t try to defeat fate?”

Loki didn’t answer this time. You could see the internal battle he was having about the idea of defying death. He sighed, sitting on the chair behind him. “I’m not sure if evading death will be so easy this time,” he whispered, eyes trained on his palms.  _ This time? _ You wondered what that meant, but you weren’t going to question him about it, especially not now. “This is something that even I do not seem to have the power to control, and perhaps that is for the best.”

Some part of you wanted to get angry again, but watching the God of Mischief look more lost than you felt was something of a damper on your ever-changing mood. Processing his words, you attempted to find some hidden meaning to them. Soon enough, you pinpointed the fact that he seemed to be surrendering to the fate given to him, and part of you wondered why. 

Everything that you had heard about the Loki who attempted to take over New York being fearsome and tyrannical seemed to wither away into the back part of your brain because  _ no.  _

The Loki standing before you was the one who’s hands gracefully caressed pages of books, who’s eyes danced when looking at the trees and sunset, and who’s brows furrowed at memories he would rather suppress. The Loki you had before you was the same one who was far more hurt by the idea of you rejecting him than the thought of dropping dead. If there wasn’t a lingering feeling of dread hanging in the air, you would have been tempted to speculate if this Loki was seen by anyone else besides you.

“Then what do you plan on doing?” You finally asked.

“Are you asking what I plan to do with my remaining time?” He questioned right back, an unreadable expression on his face. You nodded, sitting across from him. Briefly, you caught a glimpse of his hands twitching in his lap as if he wanted to reach out and grab something but was holding back. “Well, first, I’d like to finish eating,” he said. It wasn’t a complete answer to your question, but seeing as though neither of you could be certain how long he would be able to eat greasy comfort food, you let it slide. After the night's events, you couldn’t help but feel guilty that you didn’t ask for something fancier - something more fitting as a  _ last meal _ .

As Loki began eating what was left of his food, you pushed yours around, not feeling as though you could stomach something at that moment. His eyes would glance over at you from time to time, and you’d hesitantly bring a small bite to your lips to appease the god. 

Suddenly, you came to the conclusion that there needed to be distance between the two of you. You could not risk him attempting another life-altering kiss that would sooner put him in his grave than bring him happiness.  _ This needs to be done,  _ you told yourself.  _ You cannot continue to hurt him; you cannot risk it.  _ So, as silence and the smell of cold Chinese food filled your apartment, you began the painstaking process of placing the bricks back into your walls - the one Loki had so easily torn down. 

By the end of the night, the wall you had sheltered yourself with had been repaired faster than it had come toppling down. 

_ It’s for the best,  _ you thought, eyes fluttering shut as you laid in bed that night, knowing sleep would not come. 

_ Monsters do not rest. _

***

You were sitting on the window seat, glancing out into the streets below, wondering if the city truly never slept. People passed every once in a while. Some of them seemed to have a sway to their step that could have only been explained by the consumption of alcohol, or drugs, but you wouldn’t assume. A mug of hot tea sat in your hands, steam climbing into the air as you all but neglected its warmth.

Three days had passed since the night you had  _ thought  _ you sealed Loki’s fate. The past few nights were filled with unease and tension that the sharpest blades probably could not cut through. Loki appeared on your doorstep right around sunset each night, a book in hand and a stoic expression on his face. You wondered how much he regretted the kiss, and this horrible, nagging part of you kept saying how utterly selfish that thought was. 

_ How could you have enjoyed something that would bring about the end of a being over a thousand years old? _

Every waking second was filled with palpable trepidation. When Loki was not at your apartment, you were frantic, wondering if he had dropped dead on his way to you or if he even woke up that morning. There was not a second that passed by that did not fill you with a feeling that his fate was approaching far too quickly. 

So, you stayed true to your word.

You researched day and night; you read books on curses, articles on witchcraft, and you even began looking up places within the city that may hold more information. Of course, this meant that you had traveled to some very strange locations in the past few days, and unfortunately, all of them were nothing more than shops filled with irritably repetitive trinkets and tarot cards.

Sleep was something you chased relentlessly. Each time you closed your eyes, you were reminded of the fact that someone else closed their eyes and never opened them again because of you. The mental image berated you as if saying that you were not someone who deserved the luxury of sleep. However, such nightmares and terrible daydreams did not have to remind you of it.  _ You knew. _

Your tea had long since cooled down when you stood from your spot. As you got to your feet, you spotted a person standing across the room. Startled, you felt your grip falter, the cup almost falling from your hand. 

Loki’s face was emotionless as he stared at you from his spot near the sofa. You weren’t sure if he was real until he began walking towards you, his expression still neutral as he approached. He still looked the same; there were no veins popping from his forehead, no discoloration.  _ No _ , this Loki was alive.

“My apologies, I seem to have forgotten my book,” he spoke, his voice flat.

You exhaled, your eyes screwing shut as a temporary feeling of relief coursed through you. The feeling subsided quickly as you realized that it was also only  _ temporary  _ for him to be alive. 

When you opened your eyes again, Loki was standing much closer. You took a step back, reminding yourself that distance was key.  _ Sure,  _ you thought,  _ maybe it’s a little late for distance, but it’s better off this way, right?  _ His eyes scanned your face at your sudden retreat, eyebrows furrowing as he lifted his hand. His fingertips had barely touched the skin of your cheek before you turned away. This, apparently, was the last thing he wanted.

His cold fingers gripped your chin. It was a soft, yet firm, grip that forced you to face him. Loki’s other hand grabbed the mug in your hand, placing it on the counter before reaching up to graze the skin beneath your eyes. It was a gentle caress that was the complete opposite of the grip he had on your chin. His grip did not slacken in the slightest as you attempted to move away from him.

You forced yourself to look anywhere but at the god before you, hoping that he would soon let go and leave you be. Clearly, such things would not work on him. Loki was a god after all; he was probably much more patient than you could ever imagine. Tricks and moments of stubborn resistance would never work.

Exasperated, you broke the silence, “What?” Your arms were hanging limply by your sides in defeat, surrendering to his touch.

“You have not been sleeping,” Loki’s voice was firm, an indication that he was simply stating a fact that he had observed. You wondered if the light from the lamp in the corner was making the bags under your eyes more intensified or if you truly looked like the mess you felt like you were. The gentle caresses on your cheek carried on, making you feel drowsy, but you knew better than to close your eyes.

“I have slept,” you lied, and it was clear that Loki did not believe you.

“Such feeble attempts at deceit will not work on me. Shall I put you to sleep again?”

“No, I told you not to do that anymore.”

“I seem to remember you telling me to not do so unless I asked first. You never said that you had to agree, only that I needed to ask.”

At the remark, you glared at him, hoping that your gaze would make him let you go. It didn’t, but it was worth a shot. A small arrogant smirk was playing on his lips, and you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes. He had definitely meant for you to get irritated enough to steal a glance, and you were foolish enough to fall for it.

“Don’t,” you warned. You weren’t sure what the warning was for.  _ Another kiss, perhaps? Or a warning not to put a sleeping spell on you? _

“I won’t,” Loki responded, his grip finally loosening. His hands, instead, cupped your cheeks as he brushed his thumbs against your skin. He sighed as you stepped farther from his grip, and his hands fell to his sides. “I do wish that you would sleep.”

“I can’t,” you replied hastily.

“You can,” he replied with just as much urgency.

“No,” you began. “No, I really can’t. You don’t understand.” You grabbed the mug from the counter as you walked towards the kitchen, Loki following in your stead. He blocked the entryway to the kitchen as you reached the sink, cornering you. “Loki, please move.”

“I will move as soon as you agree to rest.” He held his ground as you attempted to find a way to get around him. To an outsider, the two of you would have looked like two wrestlers looking for an opening on one another. When you opted to just try to barrel through him,  _ as if that was a good idea,  _ he caught you by the shoulders, holding you steady in front of him. His expression was stern as he spoke again. “You have not slept. Why?”

“I told you that I wasn’t going to sit back and watch you die,” you blurted. “I can’t sit back and let that happen.”

His expression softened, concern washing over his features. You were getting used to him giving you more vulnerable looks instead of his typical emotionless, detached expressions that were plentiful during your meetings in the park.

“For me?” Loki questioned, his voice quiet as if he wasn’t really expecting that to be the reason. Obviously, the thought of death didn’t seem to phase him the way it did for you.

“Yeah, for you,” you reiterated, hands resting on your hips as you stared up at the god.

The God of Mischief’s hands fell to his sides again as he looked you over. He didn’t say much else as you brushed past him, walking into your living room; however, he didn’t allow you to get far. Loki grabbed your wrist, pulling you with him as he walked the short distance to your bedroom. For a moment, you wondered what he was doing, but he seemed to answer the question himself as he motioned for you to sit on the bed.

“Sleep,” he ordered. He had crossed his arms over his chest, staring at you expectantly.

“I just said -”

“Yes, I’m aware. You stay awake for my sake.” He interrupted. “I am grateful for such dedication, but I do not wish to see you fade away. I said this before. I accept my fate, and I will not allow you to fall apart while trying to change what you deem inevitable.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he held his hand up as if to silence you.

“Sleep, I will not ask again.”

“You didn’t ask me, though,” you retorted.

His gaze was borderline amused at your response, but then he smiled softly, reaching forward to brush a stray hair from your face. “Please, sleep.”

_ How could you say no? _

***

When you woke, you felt content. It was a brief, fleeting moment of peace that you wished would have lasted forever. There were no nightmares while you slept, an occurrence that you had grown so very grateful for whenever it happened.

Loki was nowhere to be seen as you walked into your living room, and you wondered if he had made it back home okay. The god had gladly sat at your bedside, reading aloud in an attempt to ensure that you were aware that he was still very much alive as he sat beside you. Maybe he was the reason for your lack of nightmares.

Without annoying work emails to sort through, your days were becoming agonizingly long. Feeling much more rested than the day before, you quickly decided to go out to see if any more shops would be helpful to you at all. Helpful to  _ Loki. _

The air was brisk, a cold city breeze blowing right through you. It was enough for goosebumps to raise on your skin, but not enough for you to want to huddle by a fire until you were once again warm. You spent the day going to shop after shop, disappointment after disappointment. Everything was the same in each store; the only differences to be seen were the people behind the counters and the names above the doors.

Your final stop was in Harlem. With a sense of defeat, you glanced up at the sky before descending into the subway station. The golden rays of sunshine were slowly depleting, covering the streets in a pinkish hue that made everything look ethereal. 

The ride to Harlem was quiet. Not many people seemed to be on the line, which was a bit worrying, but you wouldn’t question it. In fact, you found the silence inviting - a welcome haze of  _ nothingness  _ to fill your mind.

As you walked the streets, you felt the stares of those around you. You wondered if there was something wrong with the way you looked, but when you glanced into the reflective surface of a window in front of a passing shop, you found nothing wrong with your appearance. You did, however, catch a glimpse of a store on the opposite side of the street through the reflection.  _ Weird,  _ you thought.  _ That wasn’t there when I was walking this way, was it? _

When you entered the establishment, your nose immediately picked up on earthy smells that you weren’t sure could even be found in the city. The walls were lined with staffs and shelves, and honestly, you weren’t sure which one was more intriguing. The staffs on display exhibited intricate carvings; some of them were made from wood while others out of stone. Materials such as twine and some other wiry material wrapped around various parts, emphasizing the grooves on the surface. The shelves sported what looked like ordinary jewelry with the occasional piece that looked as if it were ancient. Other shelves seemed to carry books written in a language you couldn’t possibly begin to read. The obscure symbols made your eyes ache just looking at them.

“Hello?” You called, looking for the counter and the register.

“Come in, child,” a ringing voice replied from the back of the shop. As you followed in the direction of the voice, you started to realize that this shop was far from ordinary. There were seemingly archaic books, open to stained and withering pages in glass displays. The language was foreign and the images reminded you of ritualistic circles.

When you saw the woman, you were almost afraid to ask her anything. She was  _ definitely  _ not what you had expected to see. She wore a crimson-colored floor length dress with a golden sash wrapped around her waist as a belt. The sleeves were flared, the fabric seeping towards the floor as the woman stood as still as stone. Her hair was golden, flowing easily past her shoulders and down to her hips. The smile on her face as you approached was kind, gentle even.

_ Okay,  _ you thought, smiling back.  _ She at least looks authentic. _

“Do you happen to have anything that’s supposed to break curses or at least delay the effects of one?” Your voice was taut as you spoke, uneasy about speaking so casually. The woman before you practically radiated an otherworldly aura.

She didn’t speak, and for a brief moment you wondered if you had offended her.  _ Do curses exist? Were those the wrong words to use?  _

Caught up in your own thoughts, you almost missed the sound of your name falling from her lips. Her silvery voice rang throughout the room as she said it again. Briefly, you tried to recall if you introduced yourself. You didn’t, of course, but then again, maybe it was normal for people like this to just know names off the top of their head. When you looked up, her hand was outstretched towards you, the rings on her fingers shimmering in the soft glow of candlelight.

Hesitantly, you took a few steps towards her and eyed the hand, not sure if you were meant to hold it or give her money. The woman answered your own unspoken question as she reached down to grasp your hand in hers. The cool metal of her rings caused goosebumps to rise on your forearm as she held it up, patting it softly with her other hand.

“You may call me Veleda, child. I have been waiting for you.”

“Right,” you dragged out, pulling your hand from her embrace. “Nice to meet you, too.”

As you held your hand up to your chest as a way to show that you didn’t want her to touch you again, she smiled. It was a different smile this time, though. It was almost  _ motherly.  _ She seemed to scan you up and down, taking in the sight before her. Then, suddenly and without so much as a word, she spun on her heel, walking towards a curtain that probably covered the back room of the shop.

“Wait,” you called.  _ She didn’t even help me. _

Veleda came to a halt right before the curtain. A mirror stood beside her, and in the reflection, a white haired woman that looked positively hoary stood in her place. When she glanced over her shoulder to look at you, you found that the words you wanted to say would not come out.

“Your days of suffering shall soon end. There is hope for you yet.”

And with that, she disappeared into the adjacent room. Not knowing what to make of the experience, you decided to just leave.  _ Trick of the light, just a trick of the light.  _

As you exited the building you caught a glimpse of the reflection on the opposite side of the street again. The shop was nowhere to be seen in the reflection, and when you turned back around, it looked as if you had just walked out of a wall. Stepping back towards the door you could have sworn you had just let go of, it felt as if you walked through an invisible veil. Then, once again, the shop was there.

_ Weird,  _ you thought, hastily walking away from the scene.

Sitting on the subway was a lot less pleasant going in the opposite direction. It was rush hour, and were almost certain that if one more person stepped into the car, the train would cease to move entirely. You were cramped by a wall, arms clenched to your chest as you waited for your stop to come. There were many reasons as to why you were in a rush to get home. The first and foremost reason was that Loki was probably already there, and there was an odd tightness to your chest that screamed at you to make sure he was okay.

_ He needs a phone or something,  _ you note.

The second reason you wanted to get home quickly was because there was a strange stone in your hand, and you couldn’t quite remember how it got there. You felt as if you would have remembered picking it up; besides, if you  _ had  _ accidentally taken it from the shop, you needed to go back and apologize for stealing it. Murder was already on your track record, and quite frankly, theft didn’t seem like another blemish you wanted to harbor on it.

You had already googled the strange symbol engraved into the surface, and it only made you more curious. From what google said, the marking was meant to say that you had reached the end of a journey, or some turbulent  _ thing.  _ Your memory was hazy, and honestly, google wasn’t very helpful when all you could search was: “ _ Weird butterfly looking symbol on stone.” _

Google also wasn’t helpful when you could barely get reception or breathe without inhaling sweat from the bodies surrounding you.

When you arrived home, you found that you were right. Loki stood by the window, his arms crossed, and briefly, you wondered if he teleported into your home or if he found the spare key in the hall. Either way, it’s not as if you were complaining, knowing he was a god kind of fended off the idea that he may try to steal something unless he was obsessed with collecting dusty DVDs and uncooked spaghetti noodles.

Loki’s hair was tied into a nice little bun, and part of you wanted to reach up and touch it. You suppressed the thought, though, knowing that  _ distance  _ was still very important even if you weren’t very good at maintaining it. 

You smiled at him, walking closer as you opened your mouth to speak.

“I thought you had been whisked away by your local authorities again,” his voice was low as he spoke, interrupting your attempt at speaking. His emerald eyes were wandering over your body, searching for something.

“No, just went shopping.” You responded, glancing around the apartment to see if Loki had brought one of his books with him. Perhaps  _ he  _ knew what this symbol meant.

“I see no evidence of your indulgence.”

“Yeah, I guess I didn’t really think about buying anything, but I brought something back.” You held your hand out, the stone laying flat in your palm as you displayed it for the god to see. His eyebrows knitted together as he examined it before picking it up.

“Where did you get this?”

“Some enigmatic lady from a shop that disappears.” You stated, watching as Loki didn’t seem to even flinch at the words.  _ Are disappearing stores normal?  _ “She knew my name and everything. Said she was waiting for me.”

At that, Loki shook his head, “I believe you’ve encountered something along the lines of a seeress.”

“I’m sorry, a  _ what _ ?”

“A seeress.” He repeated, eyes glancing up to meet yours. “A prophetess. A  völva . Any of these words would probably suffice. Your kind seems to have given many names for those who possess such powers granted by the Norns.”

“You mean a fortune teller?”

Loki sighed, “I suppose if you choose to see it as such, yes. They use  seiðr for clairvoyance and rituals. They’re not common - the fact that you found one here in the city strikes me as odd.”

“Or,” you begin to suggest. “Maybe she was just some crazy lady who knows a few magic tricks.”

The god before you hummed, not bothering to feed into the conversation any longer. His eyes were fixed on the engraved stone that rested in his palm. You stood patiently, waiting for him to speak. That wasn’t very smart, because you could have sworn you stood there for an eternity before you finally grew too impatient to keep quiet.

“The sign apparently means my suffering has ended or something along the lines of that.”

Loki gave you a strange look and, in return, you smiled bashfully, hopeful that you didn’t just speak complete and utter nonsense. “I googled it earlier.” He nodded in acknowledgement, but he appeared to still be deep in thought. He grabbed your hand after a moment, placing the stone back in your hand. It was warm as it touched your skin, probably heated by his stare because there was no way his  _ body heat  _ made it warm. Loki was more like a lukewarm glass of water than a nice cup of tea - neither hot nor too cold.

“I don’t believe this rune was meant to be read that way.” He stated, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

It was your turn to look confused as you squinted at him. “That’s the literal translation.”

“Yes, when it’s upright.”

_ Upright?  _ “Loki, maybe you’re seeing something different than me,” you huffed, examining the symbol again.  _ Do gods have bad eyesight? Is that why he’s always glaring? _ “This thing can only  _ be  _ upright no matter how you look at it.”

You watched as he rolled his eyes at you. “It’s true that Dagaz cannot be reversed, but, when being read, it’s meaning can be the opposite.”

“What,” you breathed, only growing more confused. “What does that even mean? You basically just repeated yourself.”

“It means, little one, that change is  _ coming.  _ Even if it is not yet here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading as always!!
> 
> Kudos and/or any feedback is always very appreciated xx


	7. Insusceptible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello beauties! I was recently stuck in a very prominent rut trying to figure out some later events of the story, but I figured it out and I can't wait to share :) 
> 
> (seriously I am exercising max patience here)
> 
> ANYWAYS, thank you to the lovely people who are keeping up with this story, it means so much to me that other people are enjoying this too! This was supposed to be posted on Tuesday, but I've been a bit caught up in some RL stuff. I've only had time to write around this time (3am) soooooo.... I’m going to try to have the next chapter out by the end of this week though to try to put myself back on schedule. This chapter is unedited - please enjoy this monstrosity of a chapter :)
> 
> Much love x

Veleda _lied_.

That was your conclusion as the week had come to a very uneventful end. Almost a week had passed and there were no sudden changes, no people coming to congratulate you on being free from a curse, _not that you expected anyone to do that_ , and there were no obvious things happening around you that could be accurately described as change or an ending of suffering. _What exactly counted as change?_ Surely, Loki may have known, but if he did, he wouldn’t say.

 _Am I just impatient?_ You wondered as you stared off into space.

A book sat in your lap as you laid, sprawled out on the couch as if you were never planning on moving. Which, by all means, was entirely true. There was absolutely no point in moving when you had nowhere to be, no friends to contact, and no police knocking on your door.

You shut your eyes, letting your mind roam to the endless possibilities behind the word “change.” Perhaps you fell asleep in that small amount of time - a deep, dreamless sleep. To say you were exhausted would have been considered an understatement. You were more than just exhausted, and there was nothing left to do besides wait for a certain God of Mischief to come knocking at your door. _If he ever did, that is_.

Maybe you hadn’t slept at all, and you had simply thought too deeply and lost your train of thought entirely, sitting in silence with a mind so blank and body so still, you could have been mistaken as dead.

When you opened your eyes, the glowing emerald eyes of Loki were above you. At first, you thought to scream, but then you realized that the walls were thick, but they weren’t thick enough to block out a blood curdling scream. Besides, how could you scream with such beauty looking down at you?

You grinned sleepily at him, sitting up. Loki offered his hand to you but you waved him off. From your spot on the sofa, you could see a shopping bag sitting on the kitchen counter. Squinting at it, you opened your mouth to question the god.

“Ingredients for dinner,” he answered, already knowing what you were going to ask. “You mentioned that there were items you were missing.”

You nodded, “Shall we start, then?”

Loki had expressed the previous night that he had never really cooked anything before, and of course, you took that as a challenge to get the god to cook with you. With the boxes of spaghetti noodles and long forgotten cans of crushed tomatoes sitting in your pantry, you figured it would be an easy feat to overcome. Something to cross off the immortal being’s nonexistent bucket list.

However, with every second that passed in the kitchen, it was proving more difficult than you had hoped. Every instruction you seemed to give to Loki was met with quick and decisive yeses and the occasional phrase, “I am not feeble-minded.” The amount of times you rolled your eyes as he continuously did things incorrectly was immeasurable - he was _horrible_ at cooking. You decided that very quickly.

Some part of you really wished you had thought of the fact that your kitchen was very small, because that meant there wasn’t much space to move around. Half the time, you were practically hovering over each other, to which you had to keep reminding yourself to keep your distance. Loki barely seemed to mind being in such close proximity to you, and you wondered if he really didn’t care or if he was just very good at hiding it.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching as Loki began to tilt the can of crushed tomatoes in order to pour it into the boiling water with the barely cooked noodles. He paused, following your gaze to the can in his hands. The god sighed, placing it on the counter as you attempted to stifle your laughter.

“Do you find this amusing?” He asked, seemingly upset at your poor attempt to hide your gaiety. At the upset look, you only choked out more giggles. Loki closed his eyes, a distressed sigh escaping his lips while a contradicting grin appeared in its stead. “Please, do carry on. Laugh all you wish instead of helping me.”

“I thought,” you sputtered, covering your mouth with your hand before another laugh could unleash itself. “I thought you weren’t stupid, oh glorious one.” Loki’s eyes were trained on you, probably wondering why you found the events so amusing. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care if he was offended, because the fact of the matter was, you were having fun. Having fun didn’t have to lead to kissing, and he said himself that he didn’t want to sit around and mope all day. However, that did make you wonder what it was that he did when he wasn’t with you.

“Out,” he ordered, fighting the smile that was so stubbornly trying to make an appearance. Playfully pouting at him, you spun on your heel, turning to walk towards the living room.

You took a seat at the counter, watching as Loki fumbled with various ingredients as if he knew what he was doing. Perhaps he did, but from all you could see, he seemed as though he was struggling to figure anything out. A small giggle escaped your lips as he dropped some spices on the ground. He let out a frustrated huff, peering up at you through his messy locks that he had unsuccessfully tried to keep tucked behind his ears. When he turned away, you could have sworn there was a grin on his face.

“Need some help?” You asked, knowing that he would probably just ignore you. Which he did.

So, instead, you tapped your fingers against the countertop, chin resting in your palm as you watched every glorious muscle in his back move with ease. You mentally sighed, wondering how much longer you’d be able to see him so lively - so _beautiful._

To you, it just didn’t seem fair that he had to take part in such a strange, twisted fate because of something like a kiss. How could the world be so cruel? How could the universe put this dangerously handsome _god_ in front of you and ask you not to be tempted? Not only that, but how could they have allowed him to be even the least bit interested in _you_? Fate was twisted.

You continued to watch as Loki finally seemed to figure out how to make it look like he knew what he was doing. By then, the moonlight was trickling in, highlighting his figure from where he stood. Silence danced on the walls, echoing the faintest sounds of clattering dishes as you sat there observing.

Before you knew it, Loki was placing a plate of his creation in front of you. The smell of spices filled your senses, drowning out everything else as he sat beside you with his own dinner. It was then that you noticed that he had already given you utensils as well as a glass of water, but if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t entirely sure when he had done so.

Loki’s eyes were pleading with yours in the most childish of ways, watching expectantly as you picked up your fork. _Eat it_ , his mind seemed to scream at you, wanting to see your reaction before all else. Without hesitation, you began to eagerly dig in, hoping to appease the god. It was an action you regretted almost immediately after putting the first forkful in your mouth.

You chewed slowly, feeling your mouth ignite with a pungent taste that could only mean that Loki most certainly _did not_ know what he was doing in the kitchen. After swallowing, you gripped your glass of water, attempting to appear unfazed by the overpowering flavor profile you had just experienced. Shutting your eyes tightly, trying not to cough, you took a long sip from the glass. Upon opening your eyes, you saw Loki’s confused stare.

Attempting to smile, you took another sip of water. “It’s… lovely, Loki.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at your hesitant opinion before following your actions to take a bite of the spaghetti. You watched as he seemed to freeze as the flavors touched his tongue, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were in pain. You bit your lip while you watched, holding in a laugh that would most certainly cause him to either get annoyed or adorably embarrassed. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing before he cleared his throat, placing his fork to the side.

An uneasy grin made its way onto his features, and even as sheepish as he looked, he was still breathtaking. _Unfair,_ you thought, chewing on your bottom lip as he met your eyes.

“Perhaps,” Loki began. “Cooking is not a talent I possess.”

“Or, _perhaps,_ you just need to listen to your mentor,” you teased, a hesitant smile playing on your lips as he held your gaze. Loki offered a glare in your direction, but you could see the playful undertones to it. Trying to keep the light atmosphere, you grabbed your fork again. As torturous as the heat was that overpowered the taste of the food, you couldn’t help but feel bad that his first attempt at cooking had gone so horribly wrong.

Before you could even shove another regretful forkful in your mouth, Loki was grabbing the plate from in front of you. His plate rested in his other hand as he stood to his feet. “You needn’t force yourself to eat such a vile platter,” he muttered, and you could have sworn that there was a light blush gracing his cheeks as he walked around the counter to dispose of the food.

 _What a waste,_ you thought, standing from your spot. _It could’ve been worse, though._ As you stood, you felt the soft vibration of your phone in your pocket.

“Hello?” You spoke into the receiver, walking over to the sofa. Taking a single glance over your shoulder, you saw Loki rummaging through your pantry, probably trying to put things back. Probably in all the wrong places.

“Turn on the news,” the voice of your mother resonated through the speaker. Her voice seemed strained as she spoke, and it put an uneasy feeling in your stomach. Grabbing the remote, you felt the uneasy feeling only grow as you began to flip to the one channel you avoided at all costs ever since the first time you realized that you were behind the deaths of almost a dozen individuals.

When you finally found the channel, your eyes widened. Even with the muted volume, you could see the footage, and with that, it wasn’t too hard to figure out what they were talking about. The TV showed a clip of you being motioned into apolice vehicle, and you felt your heart plummet as your face appeared on the screen.

“Mom,” you choked out, attempting to hide any emotion in your voice. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

Before she could even protest, you had hung up the phone, eyes trained on the screen. Your jaw clenched as you took in the sight before you. The bold words, “Suspect Brought in For Questioning” were displayed on the lower portion of the screen. _You weren’t even an official suspect, were you?_

Everything around you seemed to drown out as you felt a brooding darkness begin to seep through your skin and flow through your veins. It was almost as if you were six years younger, watching your world crumble for the first time - the first time you ever realized that things would never be the same. The room began to feel colder and the lights seemed to dim in your vision; then suddenly, the screen went black, and you could see Loki’s shadow beside you.

“No wonder people have been looking at me funny all week,” you muttered. “That’s probably how Veleda knew me, too.” You ran your fingers through your hair, tugging at the strands as if to punish yourself for even bothering to think that you deserved things like having fun. “Fuck, Loki, they have my face all over the news. There’s probably people gossiping about me already, you know that’s what they do, right? Everyone I know and everyone I don’t know are going to have a very similar opinion on how horrible a person I am by the end of tonight.”

“You are _not_ a horrible person,” his voice was low as he spoke, repeating the words he seemed to say far too often. Loki tossed a towel onto the back of the sofa, and you realized that he had probably come out to the living room while drying his hands just to find you sulking. You looked down at the floor, hands clawing at the clothing covering your thighs. You could feel darkness beginning to overtake you again

“How many times are you going to say that?” You said, eyes shutting tightly at the frustration pulsing through your body. It wasn’t directed at Loki, nor was it directed at the news. It was pure, scathing frustration and pent up anger boiled over the course of years at _yourself. How could you have allowed things to get so far? Why did you not turn yourself in the moment you found out what you had done?_ “How many times are you going to allow yourself to be led astray by me? I look all good and normal, I’m sure, but I’ve _killed_ people, and there’s no going back from that.”

“If killing corresponds with the type of person you are, then tell me,” Loki’s voice was still calm. “Why are heroes so glorified? Have they not done their own fair share of killing to claim such titles?” You didn’t understand how an individual could have such control over their voice. For a moment you wondered how many times Loki had to mask his emotions in order to be _that_ in control; however, the thought was slightly heartbreaking, seeing as though he had been alive for over a millennium.

“That’s different,” you countered his words.

“Ah,” he said, and you opened your eyes to see his shadow merge with yours, signifying that he was directly behind you. “Different in scenario, perhaps, but not in action. You did not kill with darkness in your heart.”

“I don’t get it,” you huffed, growing even more frustrated as you turned to face him. He wasn’t as close as you had thought, but the close proximity still caused you to take a step back in hopes of increasing the distance. “Why are you being so persistent?”

“Why are _you_ being so persistent?” He retorted, raising an eyebrow in your direction.

“This is infuriating,” you grumbled under your breath before raising your voice. “You’re defending me. You kissed me, got told you’re going to _die,_ and you’re _defending_ me. You must be mad, do you know that?”

“Perhaps I am, but as you can see, I am not dead yet.”

You froze, processing his words. As you turned the words over and over in your head, you realized that he was right. A week had passed and it was overall uneventful - no death, no croaking, and no blood. Nothing. No positive or negative events seemed to have taken place. Nothing had changed. That wasn’t right; that could not _possibly_ be right. Usually, by now, the men were gone - tipped over the iceberg of no return and well on their way to whatever came after death. Was there no time limit for Loki? Did it apply differently for him?

“I mean this in the nicest way possible, I swear, but why _aren’t_ you dead?”

“You ask as if I would know the answer to such a question,” Loki scoffed.

Ignoring his words, you continued questioning him. “Does it not affect you?”

“I don’t know-”

“Or does it not affect you the same because you’re a god?”

Loki took a step closer, his eyebrows drawing together as you bombarded him with questions. “Once again, I do not have the answer for such questions.”

This time, you allowed yourself to step closer to him, eyes searching his face for any ailment whatsoever. “Are you feeling okay?” You asked, instinctively reaching up to touch his forehead before retreating your hand, not wanting to cross that line despite how closely the two of you stood. “You don’t feel sick or anything?”

“I feel fine.” Loki’s hands were running through his hair as if he, too, were growing frustrated with the conversation.

“Then-” You began to speak again. Loki, however, seemed to have had quite enough of such incessant rambling from you. In one swift motion, his hand reached up to press against your cheek as he surged forward, pressing his lips onto yours with more force than you could have possibly been ready for. His other hand rested firmly at the small of your back, supporting the weight of his sudden attack as he guided your body backwards. You were glad for the extra support as you stumbled backwards, following his lead as he pressed your body to the wall beside the window.

“Silence,” he mumbled, drawing back slightly to practically whisper the words onto your lips, wishing them into effect. Perhaps it was the adrenaline from such a sudden action, or maybe it was the fact that Loki didn’t seem affected by whatever curse threatened those who came too close to you. Maybe, just maybe, it was because it was _him,_ and you couldn’t find a single part of you that would want to reject his advances right now despite knowing the possible outcome.

You knew your feelings, but you didn’t know his. Loki was over a thousand years old; he had centuries to learn how to sweet talk a woman and how to get her to succumb to his touch without a single grievance. He had an immeasurable amount of time in which he could have practiced that. You, on the other hand, still felt giddy at the idea of just being touched by someone who had a mutual attraction to you.

Loki hadn’t tried to touch you since the initial kiss, and it could probably be explained with the immense amount of regret he most likely felt after it occurred. After he realized he had risked his life for something as small as a mortal’s kiss - a mortal who may or may not mean something to him, he was surely mortified. Now that the god knew that you might not be able to cause any harm to his immortal being, was he intent on getting his way?

Your thoughts were brushed aside as Loki’s hand moved to your neck, caressing the skin lightly as he seemed to urge you to respond. When you didn’t reciprocate the kiss, he pulled away, eyes glazed over with a strange and seemingly displaced vulnerability. “Please,” he whispered, his forehead resting against your own. “Do not make me beg.”

Your eyes widened at his words. His thumb brushed your jaw and you swallowed thickly before bringing your hand up to grip his wrist, giving it a light squeeze. You reached up with your free hand, letting your fingertips brush the skin on his cheek as you gazed down at the almost nonexistent space between your bodies. Everything in you screamed and cried to touch him, cherish him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, repeating the words you had said the first time he had placed his irresistible lips on yours. Even with such words escaping your mouth, you found yourself gripping the collar of his shirt and pulling him ever so closer. Loki smiled gently down at you, leaning forward, and just as his breath fanned against your lips, he replied: “Don’t think about that.”

And so, you didn’t. You allowed your mind to go completely blank, letting go of every worry as Loki’s lips captured your own once again. This time, you ran your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of the soft locks slipping through your fingers. This was _right. How could you have ever thought this was wrong?_

Loki cupped your cheeks with his hands, thumbs pressing lightly on your chin to allow for his tongue to slip into your mouth. Electricity pulsed through your veins as his tongue massaged your own, tasting you.

Your eyes fell shut, every bit of your senses being entranced by the God of Mischief’s scent, his taste, his touch. As you inhaled, you could smell a faint cedar and mint scent that was both calming and alluring. As you allowed him to taste you, you, in turn, tasted him. And as he touched your skin, your body reacted with fiery passion. His fingers left your skin burning; you almost feared that you would turn to ash in his hands.

When he finally pulled back, you couldn’t help but follow his lips, not wanting to disrupt such bliss. But Loki’s grip on your cheeks stopped you from getting too far. You opened your eyes, meeting the gaze of the god standing in front of you. A lazy smile was adorning his features, and you almost wanted to take a picture to commemorate the moment.

His touch lingered as his hands fell to his sides; you were certain you would melt from how hot your skin felt. Leaning forward, he placed a languid kiss to your forehead, letting his lips hover in their place for a few seconds before he finally stepped back. The silence between you two was one of peace. Neither one of you broke eye contact as you seemed to process the events of the night.

“Did,” you stuttered, “Did you finish cleaning up in the kitchen?”

Loki shut his eyes, breaking eye contact, and let out a laugh. “Is that truly all you can think to say?”

Heat crept up your neck and into your cheeks as you blushed. It had been a while since your last encounter like this one, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly embarrassed about what had just happened. “I’m only joking, darling.”

The term of endearment did not go unnoticed as Loki turned away, walking to the kitchen as if nothing had happened at all. A smile ghosted your lips as you followed closely behind to offer a helping hand.

As you helped him clean the pots and pans, there was a lightness to the air that had been missing since before the initial kiss you shared. Loki’s hands occasionally grazed yours as the two of you washed the dishes scattered along the counter and stove, and you couldn’t help but smile. Part of you, however, screamed. It urged you to take into account the news and the danger that you could put the god in. Even if he was nonchalant about the possible repercussions, you needed to stay wary.

So, when he finally left, you stayed awake. You wondered about it all and if you could afford to be so careless. But then you thought about how Loki’s hands caressed your skin and how he had practically pleaded with you to reciprocate his actions, and you couldn’t find a reason to dwell too much on something that the god so easily brushed aside. Perhaps he _was_ different. Perhaps he was the change you so desperately needed.

***

The following day was much like the one before. Loki was quite happy to express that he had spent the night reading recipes and learning how to properly prepare food _without_ almost killing you with an outrageous amount of spice.

Before he had arrived, you spent your time lounging about, sitting by the window and watching as the sun’s rays beamed on all who graced the streets. When you had first woken, you had contemplated the idea of going out, walking around, and perhaps even doing some shopping. The idea was short lived as you recalled the video that had been put on display for anyone and everyone to see. Not many people watched the news these days, but that still didn’t stop you from imagining the worst possible scenarios in which your identity gets out and safety is no longer a word you could properly understand.

Basking in the sun with your back propped against the window was the best option for you, and although it was unfortunate, you tried to think on the bright side. Later, when the sun went down, you could enjoy the presence of another being, and that thought alone was enough to spur you on in your silent endeavor of watching the world pass by.

With all the looming hours ahead of you, it was hard to concentrate on just one thing. You found yourself addressing the most prominent issue within your mind: Loki.

According to all the evidence you could recall, he should not have been able to walk leisurely along the path of the living for more than a few days; yet, he did just that. It was as if he had laughed in the face of fate itself and continued his trek through life. You wondered what was different - what could have changed that allowed him to live freely. However, the more you dwelled on it, the harder it was to come up with an answer that you couldn’t find a _million_ reasons why that was _not_ it.

 _What was the reason behind his immunity?_ Nothing made sense. Well, nothing that you could wrap your mind around so easily at least.

The possibilities were endless, and you found yourself having to forcefully pull yourself from all the ideas running through your mind as the sound of faint knocking bounced off your walls. You blinked away the haze that had overtaken your senses before standing up to open the door. The sky was already dark, more dark than usual for when the God of Mischief decided to come stalking into your home. For a moment, you allowed a bit of déjà vu to settle in as you recalled the last time you had opened the door with the complete intention of coming face to face with Loki. The memory was enough to make you hesitate when you grasped the knob, peering out the peephole in hopes that the same detective was not standing on the other side. In fact, the memory was enough to make you anxious, sending your heart on a race with your mind, speeding up with every thought.

When you caught sight of who you expected, a breath of relief escaped your lips, but your heart was still racing as you stepped back. You turned the knob, ridding yourself of the barrier between you and the god on the other side. His presence was immediately soothing to you. Not because he made you feel safe, but because you felt as though he would not disappear if you could keep a watchful eye on him. Any amount of time spent with him out of your sight was a reason to set panic into your being.

Loki’s eyes scanned your features as he stepped into the apartment. The door fell shut behind him, and you took the briefest of moments to fight the urge to give him a hug. Despite what had happened the night before, you still could not fully convince yourself that you were in the clear, that you didn’t have to worry for Loki’s life.

You offered a smile in hopes of distracting his impervious gaze, but the action seemed to do the opposite. His eyebrows knitted together in concentration as he took a step closer to you. Loki’s hands lifted and rested on the curve of your shoulders, gently rubbing against the fabric of your shirt as if to soothe the tension you weren’t aware you were showing.

Maybe he could see the conflict in your face because, within a couple seconds, he was pulling you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist. You couldn’t find a reason to protest; you basically had told yourself not to initiate contact, but you had never said that you would say no if he were to be the one to make the move. Reaching up to grip the fabric of his shirt, you let yourself melt into the embrace.

“Are you alright?” Loki mumbled into your hair as he seemed to pull you as close as possible. You nodded, feeling your heartbeat pick up again from the mere sound of his voice. “Don’t lie. You seem upset.”

“I’m not,” you sighed, shutting your eyes. “I was just thinking of some stuff before you showed up.”

His arms tightened around you, and you let it happen. He didn’t speak for a moment, and you felt yourself growing drowsy from the lack of sleep you had been living off of. Just sitting around all day only seemed to make you feel more tired.

“Thinking about?” Loki’s voice vibrated in his chest as your head rested against his chest. You didn’t speak; instead, you clutched even more tightly at his shirt. “Darling?” He asked and the word made your heart flutter. You knew that there probably wasn’t much meaning behind it, but even so, it made you feel warmth that you had only dreamt of.

“Just stuff,” you mumbled, eyes still shut as you allowed Loki’s embrace to hold you in your spot. The answer didn’t seem to suffice as the god leaned back, tilting your chin with his finger to get you to look at him. When you opened your eyes, his own were trained on you, filled with concern. He sighed as your eyes darted to the left to avoid his stare, and he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead before resting his against your own.

Honestly, how could you ever say no to someone when all they ever did was make you feel unbelievably safe? Even if there was no special meaning behind his actions, you couldn’t help but think that it was special. Besides, such a comforting hug was something you could never turn down.

“If something bothers you, I’d much rather you tell me,” Loki said, his voice low. “But if you do not want to, I will not press you further.”

He pulled away from the embrace, but grazed the skin of your cheek with his fingertips before fully turning to walk into the apartment. You stood there silently, watching him retreat into the living room. Without responding, you followed in the god’s footsteps. He stood leaning against the counter, motioning you towards him. Another moment of déjà vu seemed to rush through you as you recalled the moment when you had first spoken to Loki and how regal he looked when motioning you forward. Now that you knew that he was a god, it only made him seem all the more dignified.

Although it was only weeks ago, there were many things that had changed. You couldn’t say that you regretted any of the events, but you also couldn’t decide if you would go through it again - if you would put Loki through it again. _Would he even want to risk himself if he was aware of the circumstances back then?_

“I’m pleased to inform you that I spent the night reading recipes, and I believe I would be more successful in cooking if I were to try again,” he said as he crossed his arms across his chest. “Shall I show you?”

“Will I die from spice overload?” You attempted to tease, but your voice was still slightly strained as the words left your mouth. Loki did not seem to notice your unsuccessful attempt as he scoffed with a playful smirk playing on his lips.

“I will be sure not to overdo it this time, darling. Do not underestimate how quickly I learn,” he retorted. Your eyes were trained on him; you’re heart beating frantically as every worry began to crash down on you again and again and again. Loki’s smirk faded as he watched your demeanor change once again. “Come here,” he murmured, uncrossing his arms.

You walked towards him slowly, arms wrapped tightly around your body as if you were trying to keep the demons in your mind from running loose within your apartment. There were enough ghosts in your life, you didn’t need any more of them in the one place you felt relatively safe. Loki held his hands out slightly, apparently wanting you to walk near him. You did as he wanted, allowing his hands to slip around your waist as you stood between his legs.

“Would you like to watch me prepare a meal for you?” Loki asked, his voice muffled once again by your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying the feeling while it lasted and hummed against his clothed chest.

“In a minute,” you sighed, closing your eyes.

When the two of you had finished eating dinner a couple hours later, Loki had gone into the living room while you cleaned up. Throughout dinner, a very needy part of you wanted nothing more than for him to pull you close again, but there was also a part of you that still said to run as far away as possible. No matter what your instincts said, the invisible barrier that forced you and Loki apart seemed to be breaking. You were still guarded, of course, but it wasn’t hard to admit that Loki was very skilled at tearing the heavily fortified walls around your heart down. Or maybe you just had a serious weak spot for the god. Either way, if things were to go terribly downhill, you could not afford to let yourself fall apart again.

You approached Loki slowly after finishing the dishes, standing before him. He still held a look of concern as he looked up at you from his spot on the sofa. A few moments of silence passed between you two before you decided that you might as well find something to do while he relaxed. As you turned to walk away, Loki’s long fingers wrapped delicately around your wrist, holding you in your spot.

“Sit with me,” he spoke. It sounded more like an order than a command, so you listened and moved to sit beside him, but his grip was firm. It was at that moment that you realized that he only allowed you to have the illusion of even a shred of control. He was still very much in control of this situation. His grip tightened as he pulled you down onto his lap.

Opening your mouth to protest, you turned your head to see him smirking. The smirk was one of absolute, breathtaking arrogance, and suddenly, you didn’t want to argue or resist anything he had to do or say anymore.

Loki’s eyes were dark as his hands rested on your hips, lightly pulling at them to urge you to straddle him. You bit your lip, eyeing him as you did what was silently requested of you. Resting your hands on his shoulders, you stared at him not knowing what to say or do.

 _Too fast,_ your mind seemed to scream. _This is moving too fast. Wasn’t I just worrying about killing him less than a day ago?_

Loki leaned forward, placing a small kiss to the corner of your mouth, letting his lips trail along your jaw to your ear, and it took everything in you not to melt into his touch. “I will not pressure you to go further than this,” he whispered as if he had read your mind. A shiver ran down your spine as his lips pressed against your neck, nipping lightly at the skin.

Your eyes fell shut at the sweet sensation of his lips against your skin. His fingertips skimmed over the skin above your waistband as he reached beneath the fabric of your shirt. Then, much like the night before, Loki’s lips pressed against yours, devouring your worries with a single kiss. The cool skin of his fingers spread against your back, pulling your body ever so closer, and it took all the effort within you to attempt to push away from the embrace.

Despite the silenced worries, and the overwhelming amount of sexual appeal Loki seemed to carry with him at all times, there would always be a small, nagging part of you telling you to leave him be, to not allow him to get more involved. He sighed in disappointment as you successfully pushed him just far enough to allow for a sliver of space to come between your lips and his. Loki’s hands withdrew from their spot on your back, trailing up your sides to cradle your face to pull you forward again.

“Loki,” You started to say. “It’s just that-”

“Must I tell you to stop thinking again?” He mumbled, leaning his head down in defeat, his forehead falling onto your chest. You reached up, running your fingers through his hair. Loki hummed in appreciation as you felt the soft locks slip through your fingers and fall back against the nape of his neck.

“Can I finish what I was going to say?”

“I suppose,” he replied, placing a delicate kiss to the base of your throat before leaning back and placing his hands back on your hips.

“Aren’t you worried?” You pried, eyes dancing with uncertainty as he furrowed his brows.

“About what?”

“Dying? You’d think that you would be more worried for your health. Don’t you think that you should be a little more worried about dying from the hands of a near stranger?” You kept speaking as Loki opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could emit any words. “It just doesn’t seem right that you’re risking your life just for the sake of a few stray kisses.”

Loki’s fingers tightened on your hip, but loosened almost immediately afterward. “I don’t follow, my dear.”

“Well, don’t you think you should be more concerned about your health. It’s not like I’m particularly worth losing your life over,” you spoke.

This time, Loki looked downright confused, which made you confused as well. He opened his mouth and shut it a few times. It was a silly sight; he looked like a fish trying to breathe out of water for a moment. You wanted to laugh, but the lack of response was more overwhelming than your desire to giggle.

“Darling-” he began to speak, but the sound of aggressive knocking cut him off.

Both of your heads turned to face the door as it opened forcefully within seconds. You yelped at the sight, and Loki’s fingers dug into your hip as he stilled. Standing quickly, Loki followed in your stride, shielding you with his body as he pulled you behind his taller frame.

“I was curious as to where you seem to think you can sneak off to, brother. You should know by now that your illusions do not work on me like they once did.” A voice spoke. You craned your neck to peak from behind the God of Mischief’s shoulder.

Loki’s body was tense, and every bit of you kind of wished you had helped him unwind when you had the chance. He never seemed this tense around you, but was that _only_ with you? Was there no other person who treated him decently enough for him to sit back and feel safe?

After a quick glance at the man standing near the entrance, you noticed that it was none other than Thor, the God of Thunder. He was a burly, intimidating looking god, and just the sight of him standing at the threshold of your abode made you feel frightened. You looked up to see Loki roll his eyes, his grip on your forearm never faltering as he took a small glance at your hidden silhouette. Hopefully, your fear was not evident on your face.

When he looked back up, his eyes met with Thor’s, and Loki’s knowing, arrogant smile appeared once again. You watched as he squared his shoulders from where he stood in front of the sofa - it was a clear, dominant motion that spoke into the silence between the brothers.

“Come now, brother, my illusions have always worked quite thoroughly on you last I checked.” Loki boasted. “If they did not work on you, you would have followed me here months ago.”

Thor glared at Loki, and then his eyes landed on you as you peered at him from your place behind the God of Mischief. His eyes seemed to narrow as they dragged themselves from your face to Loki’s hand on your arm. “I see,” he spoke, arms crossing in front of his chest as a smirk appeared on his face. “So it is a secret rendezvous. Tell me,” he took a few steps forward, eyes trained on you. “Are you a lady of the night?”

You felt the grip around your arm tighten and watched as Loki’s jaw clenched in irritation. At the same time, you felt your chest tighten. _Did he just call me a prostitute?_ Your thoughts were practically audible as Loki looked down to gauge your reaction. Upon seeing your face and the apparent offense you had taken from the question, he let out a deep sigh.

“She’s no such thing,” his tone held a bite to it. Loki’s thumb began brushing gently against the skin of your arm while still holding you in your spot. It was quite contradicting compared to the obvious annoyance dripping from his voice, but then you thought about how tense he seemed around his brother versus how he seemed around you. The Loki standing in front of you was a mixture of the two; he was tense, but he was also still attempting to comfort you in whatever way he found possible.

“A lover, then?” Thor questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“No,” you scrambled to say, pulling your arm from Loki’s touch. “Not lovers.”

Thor’s gaze rested on you once again, his eyes narrowing in scrutinization. A moment of silent regret washed over you as you began to think that he didn’t want you to speak to begin with. You looked up at Loki as you stepped out from behind his shadow. His face showed no visible emotion, but his eyes were still fixated on his brother standing across the room. Thor, however, was still staring at you with squinted eyes.

 _Yeah, gods are definitely blind or something,_ you thought.

“Actually,” Thor spoke, calmly walking towards you and Loki. “You look quite familiar, have we met?”

“No,” you choke out, wondering if he was aware of the news broadcast from the night before. If he was one of the individuals who was meant to find you, then could this be him retrieving the wanted woman the police and media raved about? “We haven’t met.”

“I’m certain I’ve seen you.”

“She has a familiar face,” Loki cut in, his features stoic as he intercepted Thor’s path to you.

The two of them seemed to exchange unspoken words while glaring at one another. Perhaps that was normal for them to be able to communicate without speaking. _Is that what happens when you’ve been siblings for a millennium?_ Thor seemed to be in deep thought for a moment before he took one long look in your direction.

“Perhaps you’re right.” He said, his voice still booming but holding more merriment than before. It was such a quick change to his mood that you couldn’t help but feel as though you were being deceived. “I apologize for your door, Miss…” You promptly informed him of your name and if your eyes had seen correctly, you could have sworn that his eyes had widened before returning back to their normal, seemingly unfazed size. Loki’s impenetrable gaze was harsh upon your skin, setting fire to your cheeks as you blushed in embarrassment. Maybe telling the god your name wasn’t smart; after all, weren’t you considered a suspect to a case that the Avengers had been called in to help with?

“Yes, well, I will fix it and be on my way.”

“No need, I will do it,” Loki spoke up, his impatience showing. Thor glanced at Loki, a smirk on his lips before he raised his arms in mock surrender.

“Of course, brother.” The God of Thunder boomed, a hearty laugh escaping his lips. “There is no need to be so serious, I simply offered to fix what I broke.” A more serious look washed over his features as he straightened his back. “Stark will not be happy to hear that you are roaming about the city unsupervised.”

 _Unsupervised?_ You thought, a questioning glance being cast at Loki. He ignored your look and remained staring at Thor. You wanted to ask what that meant, but you were not too keen on the idea of interrupting the _lovely_ interaction between brothers happening before you.

“What Stark does not know cannot hurt him,” Loki retorted as he glowered at the other god.

“You want me to lie for the sake of an _innocent_ meeting between not-lovers?”

“Yes,” Loki responded. “If you must say it like that.”

“I will do no such thing.”

“And why not?”

“If it were anyone else, perhaps I would lie for you.” Thor’s gaze fell on you once more, and this time, a very strange smile adorned his lips. “I do not believe that any of the others will be too fond of you making friends with a wanted criminal.”

Your heart dropped, and Loki made quick steps to attempt to guard you once again. However, Thor was faster, surging forward to grip your forearm. His immense amount of strength was frightening as his touch pressed tightly into your skin, and you realized that Loki could have very well done the same to your skin, but he never did. He was always gentle with you.

“You will _not_ touch her, brother,” Loki seethed, his face ignited with a venomous fury as he approached you and the other god.

“Loki, this woman is wanted, she must be held accountable for her actions. You cannot protect her here,” Thor reasoned, his grip tightening even more. The pain pulsed through your arm and you let out a small whimper that seemed to go unnoticed by the God of Thunder. Loki, however, seemed to notice before you had even acknowledged the pain. His glare was set on the contact between you and Thor, his fists clenching by his sides as he took another stride in your direction.

“I’m not wanted,” you attempted to say.

“You are,” Thor spoke. “I suspect that it will not be long until you are sought out by the local authorities or our team. We have been searching for you, and now I know why we were not able to find you.”

“What-” You began to question him while you followed his gaze to Loki. Had Loki done something?

“Why did you hide her?” Thor asked, his grip finally loosening slightly.

“Lock me up with her,” Loki spoke, ignoring the question.

“What nonsense are you speaking?”

“If you insist on giving this woman to Midgard’s authorities, they will lock her away for the rest of her mortal life, or they will test her. You know this to be true.”

“If that is the punishment they see fit, then so be it.” Thor growled in response.

“She wasn’t even aware of what she was doing,” Loki’s voice rose as he spoke, and he was now standing face to face with his brother. His hand reached out to grip Thor’s wrist, pulling harshly at it in order to free your forearm from the bruising grip. When you were finally freed, Loki reached for your other arm, pulling gently to get you to stand behind him once again. “I will not allow you to take her. I have taken more lives than she has; lock me up with her if you insist. I must warn you, though, I will not go down without a fight.”

“We have already been through this. Do not act foolishly, you once told me I was foolish for loving a mortal; yet here you are, risking your freedom for the sake of a criminal. This is no time for your mischief.”

“I am not here to cause issues,” Loki spoke, his eyes no longer trained on Thor. Instead, he had turned to face you, his long, nimble fingers, tugging at the sleeve of your long-sleeve top to reveal a reddening mark that would surely become a prominent bruise. “I am telling you that the people of this planet will take her life without explanation.” He exhaled deeply, fingers tracing the bruising skin like a feather. “There is no explanation that her people will accept. They will act out of the emotions they harbor against her, nothing more.”

“And if that is the case, then let them do so,” Thor argued, his voice just as firm and assertive as Loki’s. It truly felt like you were standing between two princes that were well aware of their prestige. “She has killed people. She must accept punishment.”

“Can you honestly stand there and say you have not taken lives as well?”

“That was war, Loki. I was protecting and restoring peace to the realms.”

“And perhaps there is a battle within her,” his voice was lower now, but it was not due to a sudden meekness, it was the way his voice became when he cared. You had noticed that after a few too many deep conversations. His eyes captured your own as his fingertips continued to caress the irritated skin. “A peace that needs to be restored before you decide to make such hasty, life-changing decisions.”

When you looked back at Thor, he was already looking at you. Loki did not allow his eyes to wander in the slightest as he stood before you. Thor’s stare was harsh, glaring with a hatred you couldn’t quite understand. He swallowed before looking away, eyes still narrowed.

“Fine.”


	8. Acquainted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again running a little late because some stuff came up, but here we are with the next chapter! I deeply apologize if my updates become even more sporadic in the next couple of weeks, but classes do start up again next week and I start work again. 
> 
> I want to write this story so badly, it's one of the best parts of my week. x
> 
> ~unedited~

Thor stood in the corner of the room, glowering in your direction as if you were the biggest threat in the universe. His arms were crossed over his chest as he followed your every movement. Loki seemed oblivious to the scorching stare of his brother, or perhaps he had just grown so used to it that he didn’t feel the need to be bothered.

Now, when you thought about it, Loki didn’t speak much about Thor. In fact, the couple times he had brought him up, there weren’t many things said about him other than how Odin favored him over the God of Mischief.

You were standing by the couch, arm held gingerly in Loki’s hands as he traced the forming bruise. You wondered if he was trying to coax it into disappearance with how much attention he was giving to the mark, but figured that you shouldn’t question his actions at the moment. After all, he had just saved you from being taken into whatever form of body-crushing custody Thor was attempting. The God of Thunder seemed relatively unbothered by his harsh actions towards you, and he definitely no longer cared for the door he had almost broken upon impact.

“We must take her to Stark,” Thor bellowed, and you watched as Loki’s gentle movements ceased. “I may have given in to whatever tactics you are playing, brother, but I will not allow her to roam freely. Her days of freedom are over.”

The words stung, but at the same time, you couldn’t find a reason to care. It’s not as though you were free in the first place; you had no job to get back to, no documents to help you leave town, and you most certainly didn’t have anyone to turn to besides the god sitting beside you. If freedom was what you craved, then it surely was not the freedom you had supposedly had these past few weeks.

“And you suppose that Stark will welcome her with open arms?” Loki asked, his voice deceivingly calm. He didn’t look up, but you could already imagine the disapproval on his face at the suggestion.

“He may,” Thor replied. “If you present your case correctly.”

His _case?_ If you hadn’t felt like a strange experiment before, you kind of felt like one now. Although they were just words, “a case” typically meant charts, arguments, evidence, and a lot of people poking ideas with sticks until it finally seemed fitting. However, you felt as though your case would be filled with more arguing and poking with needles than anything else. _How unsettling._

“I take that you will not help me,” the God of Mischief spoke confidently. It wasn’t a question by any means because both of you already knew the answer.

“I have no intention on helping you harbor a criminal.”

 _Right,_ you thought, jaw clenching as you remembered that, according to Thor, you were nothing more than a wanted mortal with a list of deceased men floating above your head. Granted, if Loki weren’t here, you probably would have allowed it all to happen. You would have gladly accepted defeat and death in exchange for some peace of mind.

“I also take that you will not allow her to stay here,” Loki’s voice seemed to drop in pitch as he finally looked up to look at the other god opposite the room.

The air was tense; it had been since the moment your apartment was _technically_ broken into by a god. It’s not like it was the first time a god had randomly showed up in your home, but at least Loki had the decency to use the key instead of body slamming his way through the only door separating you from whatever creeps might lurk the halls in the middle of the night.

“You’d be correct in assuming that,” Thor responded, unbothered by the shift in Loki’s voice.

Loki exhaled deeply, his fingers pulling gently at the sleeve of your top to hide the exposed bruise that had finished forming beneath the surface of your skin. He seemed to tense as Thor approached the sofa where you two sat, and you couldn’t deny that this whole _protective_ thing that Loki seemed to be exercising was an attractive quality. It was nice to know that he cared in action and not just in words.

When the other god came to a halt, his shadow hovering over you like a storm cloud threatening to pour at any given second, you found your heart racing from slight fear. The pain in your arm seemed to return just at the sight of him, remembering quickly the injury he had inflicted without so much as flexing a muscle. Your undeniable fragile existence among the two gods in the room was more than just a little bit unnerving.

You swallowed thickly as the impenetrable silence seemed to eat away at your skin. Loki soon stood to his feet, eyes glaring in Thor’s direction as he pulled your hand with him to hide your silhouette behind the shelter of his body. The silence carried on for longer than you would have liked, the brothers speaking in silent tongues as they stared at one another. After another moment, Loki released your hand and turned his back on the God of Thunder.

“It’s best to pack some of your things,” he guarded your body as he moved with you, blocking Thor’s gaze from reaching you. "Seeing as though my brother here does not intend for us to return soon.”

Loki followed as you walked to your room, his steps close behind yours. A second set of footsteps could be heard while you walked, a sure sign that Thor had every intention of not allowing either of you out of his sight. When you entered the room, you turned quickly to see Loki seemingly prying Thor’s fingers off the door in order to close it. You couldn’t see their mouths from your position, but you heard one of them grunt in disapproval as the door slammed shut.

“Oh, please,” Loki’s voice rang throughout the room. “I do not plan on forcing her to run away.”

The next few minutes were filled with silence as the God of Mischief took a similar stance that his brother had before. His arms were crossed over his chest as his back leaned against the wooden material of the door. He stood still, watching as you made your way drawer to drawer, placing only the essentials into a small duffel bag you had pulled out from the dusty surface below your bed.

“Loki,” you began to say, tossing a t-shirt into the almost full bag. Loki’s eyes flitted to yours quickly, searching for any indication for something being amiss. “They’re going to throw me in prison, you know that right?”

“You can’t be too sure with this group,” he responded. “They have a tendency of having differential opinions.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve said it before I believe,” Loki sighed, his gaze cast downward as he pushed himself off of the door. “I am not welcome there.”

“More welcome than me, that’s for sure,” you mumbled, zipping up the duffle bag before sitting beside it, shoulders slumping in defeat. The god’s footsteps were barely audible, but you could hear as he seemed to approached you slowly.

“When they see that you pose no real threat, they will have no other choice than to release you,” he reassured, but it did quite the opposite.

If you were to be _released,_ would that not mean that you would still have to stand trial for murdering men? Or would they figure that it could not have possibly been you? Either way, you felt ruined.

You felt the bed dip beside you as you kept your eyes trained to the floor. A lingering feeling that had become more and more prominent over the last couple weeks seemed to seep through your skin and flow through your veins. It was a rather foreign feeling even though you recognized it. The lights in your room seemed to dim as you allowed your thoughts to consume you entirely. Every possible outcome for the day seemed to bombard your mind, a thorough battle at play within your head.

Hot tears brimmed your eyes as you imagined being dragged away from your home, locked away until the end of time. After a moment of allowing yourself to dwell on the unfortunate circumstances, you inhaled deeply, straightening your back. Your eyes were shut as you urged the tears to go away, wishing them into oblivion.

Loki made no extravagant movements to attempt to soothe your worries; instead, you felt the softest of touches as his fingers intertwined with yours. The touch calmed you slightly, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you expected the trickster to be looking directly at you. However, he seemed distracted. His eyes were darting back and forth from the lampshades to you, narrowing in scrutiny as if he, of all people, were confused by your emotions.

“What is it?” You questioned, finding yourself worried over his unusual behavior. At your words, he squeezed your hand lightly.

“Nothing, darling,” he breathed, standing from his spot beside you. Loki’s eyes bore into yours, a strange emotion playing within them, as he tugged on your hand to get you to stand with him. “We must hurry before Thor breaks another one of your doors.”

The god grabbed the duffle bag with his free hand before pulling you with him towards the door. As you stepped into the hallway, you allowed yourself to take a glance back, wondering if you would be back anytime in the near future or if you would just have to live with the fact that you might never see the quaint apartment ever again. Thor seemed to have never stopped glaring as the two of you stepped out of the bedroom. His back straightened at the sight of you, jaw clenching in his attempt to further intimidate you.

 _Jokes on you,_ you mentally retorted to his glare. _You’ve already scared me to full max. Be lucky I’m not a skunk - I bet you haven’t even been sprayed by one yet._

_***_

Loki had insisted on you riding in a taxi with him to Stark Tower. You were thinking of objecting at first, but once Thor expressed his distaste for such modes of transportation, you were more than happy to oblige. The ride was relatively quiet for the first couple of minutes, but the silence was soon filled with the familiar bustle of cars and nightlife.

It felt as though an eternity had passed, sitting in silent conversation with the God of Mischief, before you had arrived at your destination. Thor was nowhere in sight, and you were thankful for his absence even if he was bound to show up sooner rather than later. You followed Loki into the tall building and tried to ignore the skeptical stares of the security in the lobby. They were most likely wondering why you were walking in with, if what Loki said was true, a god that they weren’t ashamed to publicly dislike.

Loki, as always, seemed completely unbothered by the stares. But as you approached the elevator, you noticed his shoulders slouch in the most unnoticeable way. It was like watching a weight lift off his shoulders once the two of you were out of the knowing eyes of everyone else. As terrible as the timing was, you felt a bit relieved that he was able to feel relaxed enough to let down one of his invisible guards around you.

When the elevator doors shut behind you, Loki finally turned to you. “They should all be here. Thor would have made sure of it.”

“All?” You questioned, wondering if he really meant _all_ the Avengers.

“Yes, all. Even the young one.”

“The young one?” Loki seemed to realize his words before sighing.

“You’ll see.”

The conversation ended right then and there, and you opted to not press further. If Loki said that you would find out, then surely, you would find out. _That is,_ you mentally noted. _If they don’t kill me on sight._

Apparently, when Loki had said that they would all be there - he meant it. The elevator door seemed to have been the only barrier between you and the not-so-appealing room filled with people who looked like they already wanted to murder you. In the center of them all, Thor stood with his arms still crossed over his chest. All eyes were on you and Loki as you entered the room. Hesitant steps were all you could take while you followed Loki closer and closer to what felt like was your doom.

“Ah, that’s far enough,” one of them spoke. When he stood, his hand raised in the air, you could clearly see the playboy billionaire you had only ever seen on television, or soaring a thousand feet in the air. “Loki, a word?”

Tony Stark’s fingers motioned the god forward as a group of men, that you weren’t even aware had existed in the room, surrounded you. Each of their gruff faces held a look of contempt as they crowded around you like children around an ice cream truck. Except you weren’t being screamed at in joy.

You stood on your tip toes, attempting to look past the shoulders of a couple of the men. One of them glanced down at you, raising an eyebrow before scooting ever so closer to close the gap. Sighing, you fell back onto the heels of your feet, pretending that you weren’t straining to here the conversation happening less than 20 feet away.

Their voices were hushed, but even in the quiet, you could hear the disapproval in many of their tones. From behind you, the elevator dinged. There was brief rustling before a loud boyish voice rang throughout the room.

“Sorry, Mr. Stark.” More rustling, and between the legs of your guards, you could make out the baggy jeans of what was probably a teenager. “I know you said it was an emergency, but Aunt May was making - woah, what’s up with the body guards?”

“Kid, get over here.”

“Right, sorry.”

 _Ah,_ so that must be the young one that Loki had mentioned.

Seeing as though you had never been unfortunate enough to be in harms way, you had never met any of the Avengers before. So, even if you tried to figure out who’s voices belonged to who, you couldn’t say for certain if you were correct. The only voices you knew were Tony Starks, Loki’s, and Thor’s.

“Bring her over here,” Tony’s voice spoke clearly through the muttering and hushed conversations. The men surrounding you made way for your movement, dispersing just enough for you to see where you were going. You kept your head down until your shoes stepped onto a lush carpet that laid on the floor by the couches in the center of the room.

Looking up, you were met with curious stares of all the heroes you had only ever seen through a tv screen. Your heart began to beat rapidly in your chest as they seemed to analyze you from head to toe. The only person who did not seem to be analyzing your every movement was a young man that could not have been older than 18. After taking short glances at everyone in the room, you noticed Loki beginning to take steps towards you, his jaw clenched in irritation.

“She doesn’t look that threatening,” a voice rang, and you dragged your eyes from the approaching god to a rather reserved looking gentleman.

“Appearances don’t matter,” a red-haired woman said, one of her eyebrows arched in scrutiny as she eyed you. “What matters is that she’s killed at least 10 men, not to mention the police have a warrant out for her arrest. Bringing her here was probably the last thing either of you should have thought to do.”

You watched as Tony walked slowly towards you. He narrowed his eyes, tilting his head from side to side. It was almost as if he was trying to best angle to hate you from. When he was mere steps away, he diverted his gaze and walked to a nearby table adjoined to the wall. Glasses clattered out of your view, and you noticed how everyone seemed to settle back into their seats.

“Well, Reindeer Games seems to believe that you deserve special treatment,” Tony spoke, his footsteps approaching from the side. _Reindeer Games? Is that Loki?_ He appeared seconds later with a second glass in his hand, handing it to you. “What do you think?”

He shook the glass a bit, indicating that he wanted you to take it quickly. Grabbing it, you swallowed thickly, unsure of how to answer. Was it a trick question?

“Uh, I,” you stuttered out. “Well, I don’t,” you continued to sputter out words, attempting to find an appropriate answer. How were you supposed to convince these people of your innocence when you couldn’t even convince yourself? “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” Tony asked, eyebrows furrowing as he looked at you.

“Stark,” Loki pressed, trying to alleviate any of the tension you felt.

“What? Why should we stick our necks out for someone who doesn’t want our help?” Tony asked, a speculative glare flickering between you and the god standing nearby. "So tell me, kid, because I won't ask again. Why should we even consider treating you any different than a criminal?"

You glanced at Loki as he turned to look at you, and it was in that moment that you realized that you were on your own in providing an answer. All eyes were on you as they waited for an answer that was meant to please them as well as provide adequate reasoning for your persistent belief that you deserved better than becoming a lab rat on a psychopath's table. Swallowing your fear, you straightened your shoulders.

 _No pressure,_ you reminded yourself. _It's only your whole existence on the line here._

"I might not deserve it," you breathed, and it wasn't hard to see that most of them were surprised to hear you actually sound somewhat confident in your voice. Loki, though, looked almost offended by your words. "You're right, I'm behind quite a few deaths, but I swear to you it wasn't intentional. When I found out, I hid, and while that was a terrible thing to do, I can't say I wouldn't have done it again."

Your eyes darted back and forth between Loki and Tony, looking for any acknowledgment to your words. "I didn't know how I did it, and I still can't find a reasonable explanation. If you find nothing, and you see me as a threat still, I will gladly accept any form of punishment you have for me."

Your name played at Loki's lips as he attempted to walk closer to you. The bodyguards surrounding you, though, didn't allow him to move more than a couple steps. They glared at him, looking as if they were ready to pounce if he were to try anything, and in return, Loki glared back with as much distaste.

Tony finished his drink and walked towards you. A couple seconds later, you realized he wasn't walking towards you but past you. You felt your heart drop as the sound of the elevator opening resonated within the room. The body guards dispersed, and you had to practically force yourself not to cry.

"Are you just going to stand there, or are you going to follow me?" You turned on your heel, looking on in disbelief that he might have actually been speaking to you. Opening your mouth to speak, you felt a rush of uncertainty.

Seconds passed before you finally managed to nod, following quickly; however, before you could step foot into the elevator, Tony held his hand up. “The drink. Leave it here.”

Honestly, you had forgotten about the drink in your hand before he had brought it up. It was a tad amazing that you hadn’t dropped it in the rush of emotions you had felt, but one less mess to deal with was always an upside.

You looked around, attempting to find a suitable place to put the glass down. When you didn’t find one close enough, you opted to put it on the bookcase. You looked over to see Tony roll his eyes as his impatience seemed to take hold. “Any day now would be nice.”

Loki once again attempted to get to your side, but Tony was already closing the elevator door, a grin on his face. After the door shut, he turned to you, a contemplative look on his face.

“So, you have _no_ idea how you kill people?” He asked after a long moment of silence. The words still made you wince when they were so straightforwardly spoken, especially by someone you held in high esteem.

“Uh, I,” you started to say.

“This whole ‘uh’ and ‘um’ thing has got to stop. Hearing it makes my brain want to short circuit. Not enough syllables for my mind to process it or something like that,” he spoke over you, grumbling afterwards about how he can’t believe he’s trying to help a broken record like you. _Or something like that._

You shut your mouth immediately, not wanting to irritate him any further. This was _not_ what you had expected, obviously, but you weren’t going to complain about it either. At least he wasn’t trying to kill you, or maybe he was more worried about you trying to kill _him._ Which you definitely were not trying to do.

The elevator door opened after an eternity, and you found yourself in awe of what was in front of you. It looked like a high tech lab, and from what you could gather about the Avengers, it was probably _exactly_ that.

Tony walked slowly, being somewhat kind enough, _or lazy enough,_ to allow your gaze to linger on the various computers, blueprints, holograms, etc. You weren’t sure where you were being led, but you could only assume that it wasn’t to your death - even if the fact that you were in a lab was unsettling due to your fear of becoming nothing more than an experiment.

A door slid open in front of you, and you followed in his steps as you entered. Thor, Loki, and the young man from upstairs were all standing in one corner of the room. Another man with thick black framed glasses and a t-shirt was standing behind a few computers, analyzing something that you couldn’t quite make out.

“Tony,” he greeted, walking towards the two of you while all other eyes seemed to turn to look in your direction.

“Banner,” Tony reciprocated the greeting, letting out a sigh before turning to you.

 _Okay, so that’s Bruce Banner,_ you thought, eyeing the other scientist. _The guy that turns into the Hulk, got it._

“Take a seat, kid. I’ve got some tests I want to run.”

_Tests, great._

It’s not like you were expecting anything more, or anything less, but you weren’t a big fan of the idea of getting poked and prodded by a couple of scientists like an animal on a dissecting table. Yet, here you were, about to get poked and prodded by scientists just like an animal.

You sat down on the cool metal of the table, unsure of what to make of the situation in its entirety. It was intimidating being in a room filled with people who could easily break you like a twig if they chose to do so. Taking a deep breath, you looked over at the two gods and the young man; all three of them were staring at you. Loki looked more worried than anything else; Thor looked ready to kill you, which wasn’t surprising in the slightest; and the young man looked just as intimidated and confused as you did.

Minutes passed as Tony and Bruce had a field day while checking your vital signs, analyzing hair samples, cheek swabs, and all the like. They hadn’t poked you with anything sharp just yet, but you were expecting it to happen at any given moment.

“Do you know when this all started?” Bruce asked you as he began to fold your sleeve up, eyes squinting as he felt the pulse in your wrist for the third time since you sat down.

“No,” you mumbled, diverting your gaze away from him.

“There’s nothing unusual about you,” Tony spoke up, rounding the table before leaning back against it. Bruce took a step back and joined him while the other three in the room flocked closer to hear the results. “Nothing that the eye can see, that is.”

“Mr. Stark,” the young man spoke, stepping even closer to you. “Maybe she got bit by something, you know? Like a snake or a spider.”

“Kid,” Tony breathed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s still human. That would just kill her.”

The young man chewed on his lip for a second before blowing out a puff of air. He looked over at you and mumbled, “It didn’t kill me.”

“You didn’t get bit by a deadly spider. You got bit by a science experiment.” Tony retorted to the comment.

“But it wasn’t -“ He tried to speak up, but yet another person in the room seemed to want to get their two cents in.

“That is all besides the point, is it not?” Loki interrupted their conversation, a look of irritation clear on his features as the young man beside you shut his mouth. “Can we carry on here?”

Tony put his hands up in mock surrender, rolling his eyes at Loki’s attempt to be authoritative. The young man beside you, which you gathered must have been a hero since he supposedly got bit by some special animal. But when you thought about it further, it must have really been an interesting animal because you’d been bitten by many bugs and many pets but you hadn’t turned into a superhuman just yet. Well, not any _more_ superhuman than you already seemed to be.

Bruce and Tony both continued their work for a few more moments before walking up to you. All five men circled around you, forming a strange barrier that you weren’t entirely fond of.

“What exactly is it that happens to the people you’ve killed?” Tony inquires, a hint of annoyance in his tone probably from finding nothing to work off of.

“I don’t know,” you responded, avoiding all eye contact. Before he could press further, you kept speaking. “It’s like one second they’re alive, but then the next, they aren’t.”

“How do you do it?”

“A kiss,” you muttered, suddenly overwhelmingly embarrassed to admit that you truly had a kiss of death.

“A kiss?” Bruce pressed, eyebrows furrowed as you glanced up to meet his gaze before nodding.

“Okay, so nobody kiss her,” Tony said, walking back around the table again. He picked up the cotton swabs that they had used to look at the skin cells within your mouth and placed it underneath a nearby microscope to investigate further.

“Too late,” the smug voice of Loki rang through the room, and you turned, astonished by his comment. You should have seen it coming; it seemed as though he had been serious for far too long, this was bound to happen. From the corner of your eye you could see Thor stand up straighter, a look of pure unadulterated anger directed at you. He began to stalk towards you, every step intimidating you further into fear and silence.

“So,” he seethed. “You are out to kill my brother.”

 _Didn’t you walk in on us?_ You wondered right before your eyes widened as fear coursed through your veins like a poisonous serum. You stood from your seat on the table, attempting to put some distance between you and the angry god.

As you took steps backward, he only continued his trek towards you. Trying to find words, any words to explain, your knees gave in, buckling beneath you. Half a second later, you were met with the cold, unforgiving ground below. Thor’s eyes blazed with his anger, and as he towered over you, a rush of voices seemed to try to talk him out of it. However, it seemed as though none of their voices were able to get through to him.

He leaned down, hand reaching for you, and in that moment you could have sworn you would have died from the terrifying situation you had found yourself in. The god’s hand was reaching straight for your neck to lift you up. Knowing that he could easily break your neck just by pressing a single finger to it, you were paralyzed with fear.

What happened next was a jumble of rushed actions. Weapons were out faster than you could even think to blink, and Thor was no longer standing above you. Instead, on the other side of the room, he was pinning to the glass wall. The glass was cracking behind him from the force of the person who had dragged him there.

Loki.

Loki’s eyes were glaring at his brother, a dagger in his right hand as he held the blade to Thor’s naked throat. His left hand pinned the other god to the glass, a look of confusion mixed in with the anger certainly still coursing through him. Behind the table near you, Tony had an attachment of his suit, a blaster pointed directly at Loki’s back. The young man standing mere feet away also looked ready to join the fight if needed.

Thor’s eyes were wide with disbelief as soon as the situation settled in. “Loki,” he warned, his voice low. His hands moved up to grip the collar of Loki’s shirt, his knuckles white as he held it with all his might. “You dare betray me for this woman?”

Loki scoffed, pulling back, “I told you not to lay a hand on her.” His voice did not waiver in the slightest as he took gradual steps away from his brother. He also seemed unbothered by the ready-to-act fighters in the room. “I did not go back on my word. You touched her, and I reacted.”

Nobody’s guard went down as Loki took hurried steps towards you, holding his hand out for you to take once he had arrived by your side. In one, swift motion, he had you on your feet and pulled tightly to his side, an arm wrapped leisurely around your waist. You silently thanked him for the support because your knees still felt as though they were about to give in again.

From across the room, Thor’s eyes continued to glare in your direction. He reached up slowly, rubbing his throat where Loki’s blade had made contact before. Perhaps he had expected blood from how hard Loki had been pressing the blade into his skin, or perhaps he wasn’t expecting anything at all, but when he pulled his hand away, his attention diverted to Loki and the dagger that was still in his hands.

“Let me see that dagger, brother,” he hissed, walking towards the two of you.

Loki casually tossed the blade into the air before catching it on the opposite end and handing to the other god. Thor grabbed it, tapping the point reluctantly before shooting a menacing glare in his younger brother’s direction.

“It’s fake,” his gruff voice spoke loudly, dropping the faux dagger to the ground before storming out of the room without so much as another word. With that, all the weapons and fighting stances seemed to ease away, the tension dispersing only a bit as the door fell shut.

You stole a glance at Loki. He squeezed your side slightly in reassurance before shrugging and turning to the others in the room. “Sometimes the fear of death is stronger than the true threat of it.”

Tony cleared his throat as Bruce seemed to sigh a breath of relief, “Right. So, Loki hasn’t died?”

You shook your head, watching as everyone returned to what they were doing as if the absence of Thor meant so very little at the moment.

“Last I checked, I am neither in Hel or Valhalla,” Loki contended, rolling his eyes.

Everyone seemed to ignore the comment as Tony spoke again, “Are they usually dead by now, kid?” You nodded in response. “Okay, well, let’s poke you with some needles and find out why you seem to be a walking death trap, then.”

Bruce kindly asked you to take your seat as the other man explained that he needed to take blood samples to find out if there was something in your body on a molecular level that took part in your abilities. This carried on for hours. It was back and forth. Nothing was said to you or to Loki, and the poor guy in the corner seemed to have dozed off long ago.

You were certain by the time that you were interrupted that the sun had long since risen in the east, and you wondered if the sun was blaring radiantly along the grey sidewalks of the city. Then you wondered if there were any clouds in the sky, blocking the rays from gracing the earth. In the midst of your thoughts, a woman walked into the room.

“There are police here to speak with you,” she spoke, eyeing everyone in the room before exiting without another word. Tony sighed in acknowledgment and discontent, tilting his neck in a stretching manner before turning directly to you.

“Stay here,” he ordered.

Him and Bruce left the room, leaving you with Loki and the young man who had startled awake from the presence of another person in the room. He stood to his feet, making his way to your other side. A minute or so passed before he finally turned to you, a boyish grin on his face.

“I’m Peter, by the way,” he held his hand out for you to shake before grimacing. It was if he realized a flaw in his words because he offered a new, shy smile as he spoke again. “I meant Spiderman.” He inhaled deeply and bobbed his head awkwardly, “Nice to meet you.”

 _Spiderman?_ Your eyebrows knitted together as you stared at him. This was a _kid._ He was no doubt young enough to be in high school still upon closer inspection, and you were meant to believe that this kid swung from buildings and fought against world-ending evil?

You cleared your throat, grabbing his hand gently to shake it, “Nice to meet you, too.”

He smiled again, but this time it was much less held back. Peter glanced over at the computers and motioned towards them. “I kind of want to know what they’re talking about up there.”

Loki followed the two of you over to the table as Peter typed something. The screen was soon showing what seemed to have been security footage, but there was no sign of Tony, Bruce, or the police. The young man kept typing various things, the screen changing each time he hit the _Enter_ button until it finally landed on the scene you all wanted to see.

Tony was motioning with his hands, his lips moving quickly as he stood face to face with Detective Francesco. You swallowed thickly, remembering how much he seemed to despise you last you saw him, and a shiver ran down your spine. Loki must have noticed the tension within you because, soon enough, his hand was pressed to the small of your back while his fingers traced delicate shapes against your spine.

“Turn it up,” you urged, wanting to know what exactly was being said; Peter obliged. The first thing you heard was the detective’s gravelly voice speaking.

“We were told she would be here, now hand her over,” he spoke loudly.

Tony shook his head in response, and you were surprised to hear the words that came out of his mouth. “The girl is safe here. If you take her now and throw her into a cell, who knows what would happen. You can’t put her away without fully understanding the extent of her powers. She could burn the building down in her fright for all you know.”

Detective Francesco stepped closer, a look of anger gracing his features. “You cannot keep putting criminals into your little troupe of already dangerous individuals.” He snapped, pointing a finger in Stark’s face. “The public barely trusts you as is, and you keep adding assassins, alien terrorists, and now a serial killer to your posse of superhumans.”

“We are not _adding_ her.” Tony rebutted, “We are studying her.”

The argument carried on until the police had given up. Before, you had thought that no one was above the law, but you guessed that maybe Tony Stark was. No one else on this planet would have been able to talk down to the NYPD like they were children, but he did. And he did a damn good job, too.

Peter typed away as all the parties in the security footage disappeared offscreen. The screen turned black, and the three of you made your way back to your prior positions scattered around the room, waiting for the others to return.

Tony was the first to walk into the room. He paced back and forth in front of you, mumbling obscenities as he did so. Bruce strolled in a few minutes later, settling down in a chair to the left of your table.

“I can’t believe I just stood up for you,” Tony mumbled. As you were about to open your mouth to thank him, he continued, “I’m never going to hear the end of it.” He stopped his pacing abruptly, pointing a finger in your direction. “You cannot leave. If you take a single step out of this building, or even the designated floors I’m giving you access to, I will ensure that you don’t see daylight again, understand?”

You nodded quickly, choking on any feasible response that you could have thought of. Tony accepted the nod as a sign of agreement, a signature on an unwritten contract that laid before you.

“Great, another thing for them to hold over our heads. This is just what we needed,” he cursed. “I can’t believe this. And you,” he waved his finger at Loki. “You’re not off the hook, you hear me?”

Loki rolled his eyes, “I understand.”

You glanced between the two of them before Bruce stood to his feet, saying your name along with Loki’s. “Let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. Follow me, you two.”

 _Okay,_ you thought. _This can’t be too bad, right?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments are also so very appreciated!
> 
> Much love :) x - Han


	9. Confrontations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies!! I am so incredibly sorry that it's taken me a month to update. Classes started up a few weeks ago, and I started working again. It's my last year and I'm applying to grad school, so I've been super stressed out recently, and I just couldn't find it in me to write this story when I didn't feel 100%. The last thing I want is to give you guys a half-assed attempt at writing.
> 
> It might take a little while for updates, but I'm still here brainstorming and typing away. Literally, I started writing this chapter exactly a month ago and have been typing about 1000 words a week up until now.
> 
> Thank you for sticking with me, loves x
> 
> ~unedited~

You were wrong.

Days had passed, and there was more tension with each passing second. So, you were very wrong to have assumed that things weren’t so bad. In fact, if it meant that you could have been saved by the murderous glares of everyone you had come into contact with, you would have gladly allowed Detective Francesco to have dragged you back to the station. You would not have even gone down kicking and screaming.

Tony and Bruce continuously called for your presence in the lab, running test upon test, getting no groundbreaking results, sending you away, and then repeating once they came up with another way to poke you with needles. Loki accompanied you most days to the lab, and you noticed that when he was around, the number of men in suits following you seemed to increase. It was as if you were slightly intimidating, but his presence alongside yours made you threatening to everyone.

Or maybe it was the other way around. After all, you weren’t exactly an ally to the group of Avengers.

The day was moving along like all the ones previous. Loki and you sat in a small room, surrounded by bookshelves of novels you had never even heard of. When you had first seen the room, you openly wondered the purpose, and, well, the answer was to be expected. It was Loki’s personal room.

Apparently, in order to keep him from “losing his temper,” Stark had funded his blatant need for literary entertainment since, according to the God of Mischief, movies just weren’t interesting enough for him. They left out key elements of character development and quite literally “butchered” novels by creating such monstrous attempts at theatrics.

This only applied to the movies that were based off of written works, of course. The films that created worlds on their own without the help of novelistic endeavors, well, they were seen in slightly better lighting. For those, the only complaints Loki seemed to address was the lack of written context to further understand the characters and the raw emotion they displayed. It was honestly safe to say that he enjoyed critiquing the industry.

From your spot next to the god, your eyes had all but ceased their relentless work to read the words dancing on the pages in front of you. Outside the window nestled on the back wall, the sound of singing birds echoed amidst the aggressive honking and yells of people on the streets below. You wondered where exactly this room had been situated because from the view outside, the Tower looked like an all glass building with windows adorning every surface of the walls. After just a moment, you settled for the idea that Stark must have just made the exterior as reflective as possible in order to divert the attention of onlookers.

_It seemed like something he would do._

You leaned your head back against the backside of your chair, letting your eyes fall shut to the strangely balanced noises outdoors. It was a strange, peaceful moment in which you felt the world almost fall away. There, in that room, with Loki in the seat beside you, it was as if the world around you had stopped existing. It was the closest thing to bliss that you had experienced in a while.

The Asgardian prince beside you seemed to take notice of your lack of reading. His voice was low as he began to speak. It was not threatening; instead, it was deep, calming, and resonating within his chest and bouncing off the invisible barriers all around you. He read poetry by authors you had never even heard of.

“Who are they?” You managed to ask, opening your eyes to see Loki’s eyes already trained on you. It took you a moment to realize that he hadn’t even been reading the poems from a book. He had recited each one by memory.

“Who?” He asked in return.

“The poets,” you responded.

Loki smiled, then. You found that he smiled more within this room than he ever did wandering the halls with the threatening presence of Stark’s guards. In fact, Loki was beyond tense around those men. You could only imagine the reasons why, and frankly, you were scared to know the exact reason for the tension.

“They’re forgotten by now,” he said, a seemingly nostalgic look upon his face. “They lived here on Midgard long ago. When I used to travel to this realm with my brother, he would go about his ways and I would go about mine. I was known as a mischievous god,” he smirked, indicating that there was a great amount of chaos that had played out from his hands. “But I also found solace in the writings and the minds of a rare few Midgardian poets and novelists.”

Over the past few days, you had become increasingly grateful for Loki’s presence. However, as you sat there, watching him recall a time that was long before you or the past 10 generations of your family, you wondered if he was grateful for your presence, too. He had lived so long, traveling various realms and meeting people that probably exceeded your wildest imagination. Yet, here, with you, he sat on a seat with only memories of those adventures.

“What is it?” Loki asked, leaning forward to rest his elbows against his knees.

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what exactly? The poets? They were only mortal, darling. I could not have prolonged their lives if I had tried.” You weren’t quite sure why, but the words stung as he said them.

Perhaps it was the reminder that you were but a blip in this god’s long life, or maybe it was how he had scoffed at the fact that these _great minds_ were only mortal. You were mortal. Were you someone he would scoff at hundreds of years from now? _Probably._

All your thoughts rushed forward, and if they were apparent on your face, Loki gave no indication that he had noticed. However, he seemed to silence himself, furrowing his brows as his own thoughts took hold of him. The two of you resumed your quiet conversation, speaking only to the demons running amuck in your minds.

A forceful knock at the door made you jolt in your seat. Loki seemed unbothered by the sound, gracefully standing to his feet as the uninvited guest opened the door. An unknown woman stood in the doorway, eyes darting back and forth between you and the God of Mischief. She sighed in relief as if she had been expecting a different sight.

“Loki,” she greeted, not bothering to acknowledge your presence. “You’re needed in the lab.”

She said nothing else as she turned on her heel to leave. Loki cleared his throat, turning to look at you for a brief moment before smiling warmly. “I’ll be back soon.” Then, within seconds, he was gone, too. As the door swung shut, a large hand caught it. A tall man by the name of Xavier stepped inside, standing in front of your only exit with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

You stood from your spot, unbothered by Xavier’s presence, and began pacing the room leisurely. There wasn’t much to do, and the last thing you wanted to do was walk into the hall where the invasive eyes of strangers would follow your every movement. At least in this room, you were alone. _Well, as alone as you were allowed to be._ Granted, being all by your lonesome wasn’t quite what you wanted, but it was better than what waited for you behind those walls.

You approached one of the shelves, fingers grazing the spines of dozens of books before you looked around the room. Maybe you just hadn’t noticed it before, but these books looked much different than all the others. These were older, worn down, and some were only held together by mere strings instead of covers. All the other books nestled around the room were newer, or at least less used, by comparison.

Grabbing one of them off the shelf, you almost expected it to disintegrate in your hands. The spine seemed to crack with years of isolation and dormancy as you flipped through the first few pages. It wasn’t as if you weren’t trying to understand the text, but each page seemed more confusing than the last. The language was one you had never seen before, and for a moment, you wondered if you had gone insane.

Then, as you turned the page again, you recognized one of the symbols. Snapping the book shut and silently cursing at your aggressive actions towards such a clearly aged piece, you turned to leave the room. You didn’t wait to see if Xavier was following you, because he was surely hot on your heels.

You walked into the elevator at the end of the hall, holding the door open as he trailed in behind you. When the doors shut behind him, you couldn’t help but side eye the man.

He was one of the few that didn’t constantly seem to have a ever-growing stick up his ass, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he even cared about what he was doing. He didn’t converse much with others, and the few times you had seen him, he was usually just sipping on a cup of coffee all by himself.

_Would it be strange to attempt to speak to him?_

You allowed yourself to steal a more obvious glance in his direction as the elevator continuously hummed with movement. Of course, he was already looking at you. _That’s his job._ Sighing, you decided to brush off the thought of attempting conversation because chances were more in favor of the young man ignoring you.

The elevator came to a stop as you arrived on the level above the others’ living quarters. You weren’t allowed to sleep on the same floor as the Avengers. Tony had said that it was only because there simply _weren’t enough rooms,_ but you knew better. You were above them so that you would have to go _through_ them to get out of this building. That is, unless you decided to just barrel through a window and hope you had an ability that allowed you to fly or at least not be too damaged by such a fall.

When you stepped out of the elevator, you took your time to walk to your room nestled deep within the maze of guards’ quarters. Xavier took the opportunity to walk by your side, half leading you down the hallways since you had a tendency to get lost. Your room was dark when you entered, but you knew your way around enough to reach the lamp beside your bed. Xavier took his place by the door, looking around before leaning his back against the wall.

You kept your eyes on him as you sat on the bed. Pushing your hand under your pillow, you pulled a small, familiar stone out from the cushions. Xavier’s eyebrows furrowed and his stance stiffened as if you were about to attack.

“Relax,” you reassured, half mumbling. “It’s as harmless as a fly.” Placing it on your lap you began to flip through the book to search for the page you had been on. It took a few moments to finally find what you were looking for.

“Hey,” you stood from your spot and began walking over to Xavier. The stone laid next to the illustration in the book as you brought it up to his eye level. “Do these look the same to you?”

The man looked at it, confused most likely, before nodding. “I guess.”

“Great,” you puffed. “Now if only I could read whatever this language is.”

“Looks kind of Icelandic,” Xavier spoke, his voice gruff as he did so. You were shocked to say the least. No one really spoke to you, and no one really spoke to _him,_ so you had mostly assumed that he wouldn’t say anything to you at all. You definitely had not expected him to willingly contribute to your thought process.

“Oh, well, maybe if I google it or something,” you reasoned with yourself. Xavier didn’t say anything else, but he did seem rather interested in the book now. He was staring at it like it was a toy under the Christmas tree, but he made no movements to indicate that he wanted anything to do with it.

Sitting back on the bed, you began to type incoherent gibberish into google in an attempt to translate whatever words were in the ancient book. Of course, you had figured that Loki could probably read it without the help of anyone or anything, but he was otherwise occupied with god-knows-what. So, this was your alternative.

You had managed to translate all of _maybe_ two words before the door opened behind Xavier’s back. He turned immediately, stance straightening as he nodded at the god in the doorway before taking his leave. Loki strode in, hands behind his back as he sighed at the sight of you sprawled across your bed with your phone so close to your face that your eyes were practically burning from the light.

“I was looking for you,” he spoke, taking a few steps forward before holding his hand out for you to take. You gladly accepted his help to sit upright, and as he pulled you up, he leaned down to kiss your forehead. _Also accepted._

“What did they want from you?”

“Nothing, they just wanted to talk,” Loki said, taking a seat beside you while still holding your hand in his. “They don’t believe that you are a threat. Stark said that my ‘alien intuition’ is not enough to go off of.”

Happiness surged through you momentarily. Maybe this meant that you wouldn’t need the 24/7 supervision. Within seconds, realization dawned on you. “They’re turning me over to the police aren’t they?” The words were almost painful to say. Loki didn’t respond, nor did he lie. You sighed, looking up to the ceiling before nodding affirmably. “This is fine. It means that it wasn’t me; someone else killed those men, and I’ll be acquitted of all the charges against me. It’s fine.”

The words were shaky as you spoke them, and you knew that you were trying to reassure yourself more than the god. “I’ll be fine,” you said, repeating it over in your mind as the grip around your fingers tightened in comfort. “I don’t plan on allowing them to turn you in,” Loki assured.

“No, I’m not going to run away from this,” you responded quickly.

“You won’t be,” he said. “But if mortal science cannot find the solution, then perhaps we need to look to your roots. Is your family aware of your circumstances?”

You shook your head and Loki nodded as if he expected that answer. He stood, pulling you with him as he did so. “Perhaps you can find answers there. If science can’t help you, maybe your family has answers that machines can’t fathom.”

“I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you whispered.

“And why not?”

“If there are answers there, I’d have to tell my own mother that I,” the words were caught in your throat for a moment before you found the energy to say them fully. “I murdered her husband - my own father. She would never forgive me, curse or not.”

“Your mother is going to be told by authorities that you killed him regardless of the curse. Would you rather her find out by your lips or by the lips of a man she has never once encountered?” Loki reasoned, his voice firm and unwavering as he pushed you to do something you found quite impossible. “Darling,” he said, reaching forward to brush his thumb against your cheek. “It might be the only way for you to find the truth.”

Inhaling deeply, you nodded in agreement. You didn’t want to admit it, but he was right. If there was anyone in this city - in this world - that might know what happened to you, it was going to be the woman that birthed you.

“Okay,” you breathed. “But maybe it’s best if you don’t come with me.”

Loki’s eyebrows furrowed, seemingly uncertain about your words. Your voice had clearly shaken as the words escaped your mouth, and he saw right through it. You weren’t entirely sure if you could do this alone, but having a strange man in the house would not bode well with the conversation you needed to have with your mother. His presence might only make things worse.

He didn’t speak at first, pondering over your uncertain words before finally saying, “I could play an illusion where she would not be able to see me.” The suggestion was appealing, but you knew much better than to allow illusions to take part in this conversation. For all you knew, you might accidentally look at him or speak to him.

“No,” you said. “If I accidentally speak to you or something, she’s going to think I’m on drugs or something. That’ll just end up with her thinking I’m out of my mind. I need her to take me seriously especially since she I’m going to start saying shit that sounds absolutely insane.”

Loki stood quietly before nodding. “Then, at least allow me to accompany you. After all, I’m the only way you’ll get past all the guards.”

“Fair enough. Speaking of, how am I going to leave the building if Stark literally threatened me if I left the 4 floors I’m allowed on?”

“Oh,” the word was deep and dragged out as Loki said it. “You underestimate me, my darling. How do you suppose I snuck out to see you every night?”

“Uh -“

“Magic,” he said, rolling his eyes playfully at your lack of response. “I set up an illusion of myself doing something inconspicuous. For example,” he waved his hand, a green glow emitting from it as a new silhouette formed. An exact replica of himself stood in the corner, a book in his hands as he flipped through the pages. “Reading _always_ works. They know better than to interrupt my reading.”

“Do I even want to ask what happened to the last person who interrupted?” You mumbled and Loki laughed at your words.

“He found my empty threats quite intimidating,” he spoke as he reminisced the mighty scare he had given to the poor guard who had dared to disrupt his peace. “I believe he transferred overseas shortly afterward.”

As he spoke, another silhouette formed at Loki’s feet. An exact clone of yourself sat with her back against the wall, fingers tracing the spine of a book in her lap. You looked at Loki, a small laugh of disbelief leaving your lips. He smiled down at you, before nodding and walking towards the door.

“Alright,” he said, hand grasping the handle of the door. “I want you to go down the right hallway, and I will follow shortly.”

You nodded in response and he opened the door.

“Quickly, now,” he spoke in a hushed voice before walking out. Xavier stood to the side of the door, and as Loki approached him, his stance once again stiffened like it always did. The god placed his hand on the man’s shoulder, turning him to face the opposite direction before saying something about needing an extra blanket for the room. You stepped quietly out of the room, walking the opposite way down the hall before turning the corner at the end.

Your steps slowed as you realized that the hallway was a dead end. Tempted to turn back, you spun on your heel to look behind yourself. Loki took his time to stroll down the hall, a smug smile on his face as he made his way towards you. Not bothering to ask why he looked so content with himself, you pointed out the obvious.

"It's a dead end," you said. "It's nothing but walls here."

"Where you see a wall, I see an exit," Loki said, reaching for your hand before continuing the trek forward. Just like he had a while back, the god somehow managed to make the world fall away and contort into the fresh air of the outdoors. As you watched the wall ahead of you seemingly melt into thin air, exposing the concrete walls of a car garage. "Like I said, you underestimate me." His voice echoed in the empty lot, bouncing off all it touched.

 _Right,_ you thought to yourself. _I forgot he could do that._

You followed Loki to a nearby vehicle and watched as he pulled keys out of his pocket. He opened the driver's side door, preparing to sit down before he paused, eyes trained on your stiff body. Your eyebrows were furrowed as you stared at the black SUV parked among hundreds of empty spots.

"What is it?" He asked, taking a step back to take in your confused look.

"We're driving?" You asked, answering his question with one of your own. It was a plausible question by all means. In the city, no one was really crazy enough to drive unless they weren't the one behind the wheel. You could make it places faster by taking the subway or by using the legs you were given, either way, it was faster than driving. But then you supposed that it was easier to stay out of the watching eyes of security cameras hidden behind tinted windows, so you let that particular part slide. However, an even bigger question was lingering in the air as Loki began to open his mouth to respond. "I mean, _you're_ driving?"

"Yes, I am."

"Do you, no offense," you added for cushion as the next words tumbled through your head. "Do you even know how to drive?"

Loki rolled his eyes in response as if the answer had never been more clear. It wasn't clear, though; at least, not to you. "Oh, please, my dear," he began, stepping towards you. "I'm considered an ancient being - a god. I have mastered sorcery, ridden wild beasts, and flown in alien ships much more complex than this, but you think me so little that I do not know how to work such a simple metal contraption?"

You pondered over the words, eyes slightly narrowed as Loki motioned to the vehicle. It wasn't hard to believe that he had dealt with much more enigmatic devices, but that didn't really answer your question. "Have you ever driven in New York before?"

"Of course not," he stated a little too confidently.

"Then how do you know you can drive?"

"How difficult could it be?"

 _Quite difficult,_ was the silent answer to Loki's rhetorical question after he had already struggled to turn left out of the parking garage. Although he would never admit his struggle, it was clear as he furrowed his brows and let out a frustrated huff that he was more than just a bit perturbed by the driving experience. It seemed that he was even more upset about having to follow the orders of the GPS.

About ten minutes had passed without many issues in the driving; however, you couldn't deny that it wasn't the best driving you'd ever encountered. The GPS in the console continuously pinged, and with every ping, Loki's frustration visibly grew. As the car rolled to a stop at a light, his attention averted to the map, a new, indiscernible look blossomed across his features.When the light turned green, it became more clear as to what the god had planned.

He began turning left despite the obvious signs that stated that the road was one way. You were far more concerned about the sudden jolt from Loki's acceleration to notice his slip up at first. So, when you looked up to see him turning, your panic set in quickly. A shriek of alarm passed your lips as you reached across the console, yanking the wheel back towards you, steering the vehicle back into the right lane.

"Are you an idiot?" The words were breathless, your shock visible as you gawked in the God of Mischief's direction. "That was a _one way_ road."

Your emphasis on the directional aspect of the street did not go unnoticed. In fact, you all but seethed the words through your teeth while tightening your grip on the steering wheel. You were no longer trying to veer the car, but you were too shaken to let go.

Loki didn't look at you; although, the look of shock on his face from when you had shrieked was still slightly apparent. He was silent for less than a few seconds before muttering to himself, "Why have a road that cannot take you both ways?" His own grip on the wheel tightened, knuckles whitening as he glared at the road. "If there is an idiot in this realm, it is not me. It's whoever constructed such an absurd concept. Roads were not made to only travel one way."

"No," you countered, hand falling away from the wheel. "You're the idiot. You are _definitely_ the idiot." You shook your head as you spoke, clearly displaying your discontent with the situation.

Loki looked over at you, and then, without warning, he began laughing heartily from the driver's seat. There was no sinister or underlying malice behind the sound. No, instead, it was filled with merriment and childish joy. With such a sound resonating within the small space, you couldn't bring yourself to keep the glare on your face. You turned, raising an eyebrow in confusion at the god as he reached across the center console to gently caress your cheek.

A smile adorned his lips as he spoke, "Most would be wise not to speak so forwardly to me, but then there's you." There was a soft look of admiration in his eyes as he continued to stroke your cheek. Heat rose to your face as you pushed his hand away.

"Keep your eyes on the road," you muttered in response, hoping he had not felt the heat in your cheeks before you pushed his touch away Loki laughed again, bringing both hands back to the wheel.

The remainder of the journey seemed to pass relatively quickly. Loki didn't try to make any unnatural turns, and even his driving style seemed to become smoother. _Guess he’s a fast learner._

Loki parked across the street from your mother’s house, and the anxiousness that you had managed to keep at bay finally erupted within you. You stared at the building, knowing that this conversation could very well end the relationship you had with your only living parent, and it would be irreversible. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the handle of the door, opening it just wide enough to step out of the vehicle. From behind you, the sound of Loki’s door opening could be heard.

“I thought we agreed on you staying behind,” you called out, looking behind you to see the god's silhouette round the back of the vehicle. However, the person the appeared from behind the car to meet you was not Loki. It was an unrecognizable woman with black hair and distinct green eyes, and upon seeing her, you narrowed your eyes. “Can I help you?”

The woman laughed, reaching forward to attempt to brush her fingers across your cheek. You took an alarmed step back, confused as to why this woman had even thought that it was okay to approach you. She smiled warmly at you despite the obvious confusion.

“Don’t fret, dearest. Just tell your mother I am a close friend,” her voice was kind, soothing, and seemed overall deceiving. You blinked in response as the delayed realization dawned on you.

“Loki?” You asked, voice hushed as if his name was a secret that you should not have dared to say.

"Yes, my dear?" The woman asked, eyes glistening with familiar playfulness.

You shook your head and sighed before motioning her to follow you to the door. She did so quietly, and you had to remind yourself that Loki was an extremely powerful being. This alone was probably nothing to the god.

Standing in front of the door was much more intimidating than it should have been, but this was no ordinary day and this was not about to be an ordinary conversation by any means. You rapped on the door quietly at first before offering a more confident strike against the wooden material. The muffled sound of your mother's voice met your ears as she most likely bustled about the living room searching for the remote to the TV.

A few seconds later, she peaked out from behind the curtain beside the door. You and Loki offered a simultaneous wave that your mother seemed to happily greet, a smile of pure joy showing in response.

"What a nice surprise," she gleefully greeted, opening the door for the two of you to walk in. There a pregnant pause as she stared at Loki, but you quickly filled the silence.

"This is my friend," you paused, wondering what name would work best.

"Loki," the name fell gracefully from her lips. She matched your mother's smile, reaching out to shake the hand of the woman who raised you. "Lovely to meet you."

"Likewise," your mother answered, shaking Loki's hand with a bashful grin. She turned to you afterward, giving you a tight squeeze before pulling you with her to the living room. “What brings the two of you here? It’s not everyday I meet a friend of yours.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, sitting on the couch before clearing your throat. “Nothing really, just wanted to stop by.”

Loki eyed you from the entrance to the room. She followed your lead, sitting beside you as your mother sat on the chair in the corner. The air was filled with tension and discernible awkwardness that was probably sending your mother down a whirlwind of scenarios that were exponentially better than what you had _actually_ come here for.

“Actually,” you began to say before Loki cut you off.

“I work for an independent journaling team, and I wanted to write about your daughter and her family.” She spoke, voice confidently ringing throughout the room. You shut your mouth as the lie seemed to work for your mother. It was kind of impressive how easily the words seemed to come from the god, but then again, Loki was the God of Mischief. Lies were something that required minimum skill to someone like that you supposed. “I’ve got a couple questions, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.”

“Is there anything,” Loki paused, leaning forward slightly. “Particularly unique about your family?”

“Like what?” Your mother asked.

“Well, the city is filled with individuals that possess great amounts of power. I wanted to know if you know of anyone in your family that might have those abilities.” Her voice was gentle yet prying, eyes narrowing subtly as she analyzed your mother’s body language.

Your mother allowed a small laugh to escape her lips before shaking her head, “No, never.” Then, she turned to you, her own eyes narrowing as she stared in your direction. Your knee was bouncing from how nervous you were with the conversation, and it took everything in you to force it to stop. “What is this about?”

 _Mothers know best,_ you thought, knowing that your demeanor had probably given the lie away almost immediately. Or perhaps the lie still worked, but your mother knew at least something was off.

“Mom,” you spoke up, voice shaking ever so slightly. “Can I trust you?”

It was a strange question; most daughters don’t sit there and ask their mothers if you could trust them, yet you were doing just that. She looked taken back by your question before she moved forward, sitting herself on the edge of her seat.

Your name fell from her lips, a gentle sound that was meant to soothe you, “There is nothing in this would that will make me love you any less, you know that.”

It was a rush of emotion and vocabulary, clashing words and extended tangents mixed with the fear, vulnerability, and harsh reality that you lived. Your mother listened, her expression unchanging, but your eyes were brimming with tears by the end. There was no way to see how Loki’s eyes narrowed at your mother or how your mothers hands had begun to shake in her lap, her body retreating further into the chair as if she could not have gotten any farther from you.

A stiff smile appeared on her lips as she stood from her spot. “Let me get you some tissues,” she spoke, voice wavering, _or was that just your imagination?_ She walked to the other room and you didn’t even begin to question it. It was a lot to take in - you knew that better than anyone.

“Darling,” Loki whispered from beside you, hand coming to rest on your knee. “I think we should go.”

“No,” you choked. “We came here for answers, and we are going to get them.”

Your mother reentered the room after a couple moments, a glass of water and a handful of napkins in her grasp as she placed it on the table in front of you. She took her seat again, a tight smile on her lips as she stopped herself from relaxing into the chair. This time, even you could see how she had changed.

“Is there anything I need to know?” You asked, finally asking the question that needed to be answered.

She nodded slowly before speaking, “We took you in from a friend.” She seemed to pause in order to allow the words to settle, but a look of distaste was apparent as she continued speaking. “You and your birth mother were pronounced dead after childbirth, but the midwife told us that you miraculously started crying after a minute of silence. You were meant to be a stillborn.”

“Then how -“

“We don’t know,” she cut you off quickly. “Only the midwife knows.”

As you opened your mouth to speak again, a new sound cut you off. Sirens could be heard coming up to the house very quickly. Loki was already standing in front of you as the red and blue lights began to flash through the sheer curtains behind you. You and your mother both stood up, but the look in her eyes was one of relief instead of surprise.

_She called them_

Staring at her in disbelief, a feeling of betrayal surged through you. Tears brimmed your eyes from a mix of sadness and anger as you narrowed your eyes in her direction.

"What happened to nothing making you love me less?" You asked.

Your mother crossed the room quickly, and soon a sharp pain jolted through you. You reached up, placing a hand on your burning cheek, watching as your mother dropped her hand to her side. A warm liquid seeped from your skin, a sure sign that her nails had ripped through your flesh during her brief attack.

"Clearly, your mother is a liar," Loki spoke up, an emerald glow surrounding the smaller and softer stature of the woman he had shifted into. Within a fraction of a second, he was towering over you and your mother, his stance menacing as he moved in front of you protectively. His eyes stared disdainfully at your mother before he turned to you.

Her eyes were wide as she backed up. The woman in front of her was now a man, and her mind couldn't quite wrap around that. She fumbled, tripping over the rug beneath her feet. As she fell to the ground, she made no sound of surprise. Instead, she cursed you.

From her position on the floor, she glared up at the both of you. She was seething, an accusing finger pointed in your direction, "You killed my husband." She spat each word at you before standing up, determined to let you know what was on her mind. "You come in here, telling me that you've killed almost a dozen people, and you expected me to accept that?"

She moved in closer, her eyes holding nothing but contempt as she looked at you. Loki stopped her before she could get any closer, placing her hand as a warning on her shoulder. She slapped his touch away, "You're no child of mine. A monster was born that night, and that woman should have left you to die with your mother."

The words were calamitous, and with every word, you could feel your entire world falling apart. You didn't know what to say, but you didn't have to. A loud knock at the door cut off your thoughts, and your _mother_ went to open the door.

Loki grabbed you by the waist quickly, pulling you with him as he began walking towards the back of the house. Your surroundings began to change, and after you blink, you're standing by the car outside. The god opened your door, ushering you in the vehicle quickly before making his way into the driver's seat and driving off.

The drive was silent. There were no tears, no words, and certainly no comfort in the world that could heal what had been broken. But Loki knew that, didn't he?

Arriving back at Stark Tower was worse than evading the police. Mostly because there were already guards in the hallway when Loki so gracefully brought you two back. Tony Stark and Thor also stood nearby, eyes ablaze with all levels of fury and ready to bring hell.

Loki's grip on your arm was fragile, cautious as the two Avengers approached. You didn't meet their gaze, nor did you let them stop you as you pulled away from Loki's grasp, making a beeline for your room.

"Where the _fuck_ have you been?" Tony raged from behind you, following closely behind as the two gods strode alongside him. "I told you, you aren't allowed to leave. Was that so hard to understand?"

You reached your door, entering quickly. However, as you crossed the threshold of the room, you spun on your heel, muttering a quick "no" before shutting door in all three men's faces.

Wishing there was a lock on the door, you turned back around, each step heavy as you made your way to your bed. The covers had never felt so cold and uninviting before, but they did as you attempted to seek any form of comfort from them.

You closed your eyes, welcoming the darkness and any nightmare that might come your way. But that night, nightmares didn't haunt you.

That night, you dreamed of a world in which death did not exist.


End file.
